


Erebus

by Jen Hall (Greenlady)



Series: The Seidhrman [6]
Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-22
Updated: 2010-09-22
Packaged: 2017-10-12 02:46:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/119931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greenlady/pseuds/Jen%20Hall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story is set in an Alternate Universe in an alternate Rome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Erebus

**********************

Holy Eros.

Erebus, the personification of Darkness, was born of Chaos, and He fathered Day. Erebus then mated with Night, and from their union an Egg was formed. The top of the shell was Heaven, and the bottom Earth. When the shell split open, Eros emerged.

Holy Eros. The descendent of Chaos, Darkness and Night. The brother of Day. As old as Gaia. As young as the morning.

****************************

'Men!' said Hutch, darkly. He stared at the stage, or rather, glowered at it. Starsky wanted to remind him that he himself was a man. But then, that wasn't entirely true. Hutch wasn't always a man. Sometimes he was a woman, and Starsky liked that a lot. He wanted to go on enjoying Hutch's unique qualities for a very long time. So he just nodded sympathetically. And truly, Hutch had some justification for his ire. Achilles was being a royal prick, as anyone could see, except for Achilles himself. Even Patroclus was telling him off.

'False to the sacred honour of our bed. O most ungrateful for our many kisses.'

That's it, thought Starsky. You tell him. Much good it will do you, though. Achilles stays pig-headed to the end. The bitter end, indeed.

'The Myrmidons' was this year's classical revival at the Imperial Theatre at Ostia. Hutch had read the play, but had never seen it live, so of course they had to go. Marcus and Sweet Angel made up the rest of their party.

The audience wept, when the news was brought to Achilles that his lover was dead, and Achilles raged in his grief. But then, it was his own fault. If he hadn't sat sulking in his tent, Patroclus would never have put on Achilles' armour, and gone into battle in his lover's name. Patroclus was not as great a warrior as Achilles, and so he died.

Starsky took Hutch's hand. I will never refuse your entreaties, he thought. We are one. You will never go into battle alone, and die alone.

The play ended. Prince Marcus rose to his feet in the royal box, signalling his permission for the audience to leave. Hutch smiled.

'What?' asked Marcus. 'It's tradition, that's all. I tried to stop it once, and everyone complained. They said I was being tyrannical, depriving them of their rituals. I'm no tyrant. If they need me to tell them to go home, I can do that.'

Hutch was laughing, as they walked down the hallway to the theatre exit. 'See how easy it is to get him riled up, Sweet Angel? I never even said a word.'

Starsky shoved Hutch up against the wall, in mock anger. 'Hey!' he said. 'You shouldn't be getting any man riled up but me.'

Hutch pulled Starsky closer, and kissed him. Kissed him hard.

'Mmm,' said Starsky. 'And you won't find me ungrateful for those kisses.'

Marcus laughed. 'Get a room, you two.'

'No,' said Starsky. 'We're heading home. I like to sleep in my own bed.'

'When he sleeps in it,' Hutch added.

'Hotel room beds aren't bouncy enough,' said Starsky.

They had reached the theatre lobby. The crowd was standing around chatting. Some were buying a last drink for the road. The doors were wide open, and the warm spring air was flowing in, along with the smell of the sea, and of the theatre gardens.

There he was, the young man who had been tailing them, just across the street, watching the crowd as they left the play. Starsky felt choked by his rage, but pushed it down. Hutch noticed, nevertheless. He put his hand on Starsky's arm. 'What's wrong?' he asked.

'It's him again,' Starsky answered.

'Him?' asked Sweet Angel.

'We're being stalked,' Starsky told her.

'By a kid, Starsky,' Hutch pointed out. 'He's nothing but a boy.'

'A boy, yes,' Starsky agreed. 'That doesn't make him harmless. He belongs to that cult. That cult that worships one God, and thinks we're sinners because we're married. But what worries me, is that he's lusting after you.'

'I hardly think he could hurt me,' said Hutch. 'I'm several inches taller, and more than a little heavier. I can take care of myself.'

'I know that. It doesn't change the fact that if he lays a hand on you, I'll cut it off at the shoulder. Maybe I should go over there and make that clear.'

'Calm down,' said Marcus. 'He's within his rights, standing in a public place.'

'Following Hutch,' said Starsky, his temper rising. He stalked toward the exit, but stopped in the doorway, and glared across the street at the boy. After a few moments, the kid noticed Starsky, and ran off.

'Good,' said Starsky. 'Don't take me on, kid. I'll break you in half.'

Starsky felt a gentle hand on his arm. Not Hutch's this time. Sweet Angel's.

'Why are you still so worried about that cult, David?' she asked. 'They have no power, or influence. So what if they preach hatred. No one is paying any attention.'

Sweet Angel was a very good friend, and a very great lady, so Starsky didn't snap her head off. She was highly intelligent, and wise in the ways of men, as individuals, or in small groups. But she had little or no knowledge of how people could act in large masses, when whipped to a fury by a demagogue.

She'd spent all her life in Rome, or Ostia. Until recently, the cities had been relatively peaceful, under the rule of the Emperor, and the leadership of the Senate, and the Commons, and the Crown Prince. Even now, the outbreaks of crime were relatively trivial, compared to some things Starsky had seen in other countries.

Witch hunts. Blaming some minority group for troubles they clearly had no part in. Sweet Angel probably believed the people of Rome were incapable of such behaviour. Starsky hoped they were, but he couldn't be certain.

'I know they have no power or influence now, Sweet Angel,' he said. 'I'm worried about them gaining that power. I'm worried about waking up one morning tied to a stake, being stoned to death, because I had sex with my own husband, in the privacy of our own bedroom.'

'That will never happen, David,' said Marcus. 'Not while I'm alive.'

'And why would they want to stone you?' asked Sweet Angel. 'Surely they didn't really mean that. What good would it do them?'

Hutch sighed. 'As a means to another end,' he said. 'As a distraction. Watch how this hand is stoning those sinners, and ignore how I'm stealing wealth and power with the other hand. And people can be united by their hatreds far more easily than by their loves.'

A small group of play goers had gathered to listen to the conversation, drawn by Prince Marcus' charisma. Someone asked who wanted to stone people.

'That strange new cult,' said someone else. 'You remember. They were arrested recently. Some of them were executed.'

'I know a couple of members of that cult,' said another listener. 'They say that two men fucking is offensive to their God.'

Everyone laughed.

'It's their right to believe that, if they want,' said Prince Marcus. 'They weren't executed for their religious beliefs. They were executed for murder. They practiced a sort of human sacrifice. Evil witchcraft. And perhaps sedition. When I asked about their religion, they wouldn't even tell me the name of their God, or their religion. They said it was too sacred to be spoken in my hearing.'

His listeners gasped at the very idea.

'However, if they change their ways, even now,' he continued. 'If they give up the evil magic, and go before the Senate Committee on Religion, they can register their religion with the state, and practice it openly. I will formally forgive them their crimes. Let them give up their evil ways, and join the Pax Romana. That's all I have to say.'

His audience applauded. Starsky, clapping himself, saw a movement in the doorway, and turned to look. It was the boy from the cult. He'd come back, and he was looking at Prince Marcus with hatred. The boy caught Starsky's eye, and ran off again, but not before giving Hutch one more look of longing.

You are one confused son of a bitch, thought Starsky. Stay away from my husband, or I'll remove all sexual temptation from your life forever. I'll cut off both your hands, and then I'll geld you. You'll spend the rest of your life incapable of doing anything but looking.

*************************

Holy Eros.

Your Holy Mother, Aphrodite, asked you to make Psyche fall in love with a monster, as a punishment. You fell in love with Psyche yourself, and married her, but you only came to her bed in the dark. She thought you were indeed a monster. Her curiosity got the better of her, and one night she lit a candle, and saw your true face. You awoke, and when you saw what she had done, you fled, into the night, leaving your heart and soul alone and abandoned.

Coward.

*************************

The temple of Eros was crowded, even this early in the morning. So many lovers wanting to get a good start on the night. Or praying to be forgiven for the sins of the night before.

Starsky poured sweet oil into his hands, and rubbed it on the giant phallus in the front courtyard of the temple, for good luck. You could never have too much of that, he thought, especially when it came to phalluses.

His own phallus worked just fine, but it was best to be safe, and pray for the good luck to continue.

He walked on into the temple. The statue of Eros loomed over the crowds below. Tall. Beautiful. Golden haired. Golden winged. Wreathed with roses. His bow and arrows at the ready.

You shot me down already, thought Starsky. I surrendered willingly.

He walked to the altar, and poured his offering of wine at the base of the statue. The earth trembled for a moment, and rose petals from the God's wreath fell at Starsky's feet.

************************

Starsky rode up to the villa gate. The slaves opened the gateway, and he rode through. He dismounted, and turned to stare at the boy who loitered across the street.

'How long has he been there?' he asked one of the guards.

'Since just after you left, Master,' the guard answered.

'Has he tried to get inside, or talk to any of you?'

'No, Master.'

'Good,' said Starsky. 'Keep me informed.'

He strolled into the villa. He could hear the sound of drums from Hutch's office. One of his patients must still be with him. That was fine, he could wait.

He went to check on the mulberry trees in the courtyard. His mother had tracked down some good stock, and they had taken root quite successfully. Already, they had a good show of leaves. The silkworms would be hatching from their little cocoons in a while, and their breakfast would be ready for them.

Prince Marcus was finishing his plans for reviving the Guardians. They were going to start out small, of course. Romans liked their civil liberties, including the right to riot when they felt a riot was needed.

Starsky himself had been working with some of his old army buddies, on new methods of hand-to-hand combat, and new improved weaponry. All that would be useful for the army, and for the Guardians.

Life was pretty good at the moment.

Down the hall, he could hear Hutch talking to his patient, as he led him to the door, and said goodbye. Hutch seemed happy with his work as a Seidhrman, dealing with the spiritual and emotional problems of his patients. He was good at figuring out when people really were haunted by ghosts or demons, and when they just felt that way out of guilt.

Starsky joined Hutch in the doorway of the villa. 'Our stalker was outside when I got back,' he said.

'Was he?' Hutch asked. 'Don't worry so much, Starsk.'

'Do you think I have a guilty conscience?' asked Starsky. 'Am I just using that kid as a scapegoat?'

Hutch laughed. 'So,' he said. 'You've been listening in on some of my sessions.'

'Well, yes,' said Starsky. 'I have to keep up with you. Living with a mage, people expect you to know these things. I don't want to look like I'm too stupid to deserve you.'

'Why don't we go inside,' said Hutch. 'And I'll show you what you deserve.'

'Ah. My prayers have been answered.'

'And what did you pray for? Justice?'

'Why don't we go inside,' said Starsky. 'And I'll show you what I prayed for.'

******************************

They were in the courtyard, enjoying the afternoon sunshine. Hutch was resting on his favourite bench, with his head in Starsky's lap. Viggo lay at Starsky's feet, snoring. The spring day was so beautiful and peaceful, Starsky thought, as he stroked his lover's silky hair.

'Master Kenneth?'

Hutch stirred, and opened his eyes. 'Yes, Ignatios?' he said.

'There's someone who wishes to speak with you, Sir.'

'My husband has office hours, Ignatios,' said Starsky. 'Tell him to make an appointment.'

'It's the boy who's been waiting around outside the villa, and following you, Sir. You wanted to be informed if he tried to get inside, Sir.'

'You mean to tell me that he asked to speak to Hutch? He really expects to be allowed inside?' Starsky was outraged.

Hutch sat up, and swung his legs over the side of the bench. 'Tell the boy I will see him in my office, Ignatios.'

'You'll do no such thing!' said Starsky.

'Starsky.'

'Absolutely not. I forbid it.'

'Starsky.'

'What do you think you're doing, Hutch? Do you think talking to him is going to help? The boy has been raised all his life by these lunatics. One conversation with you isn't going to cure him of his delusions. And it sure isn't going to cure him of his attraction to you. Being in a room alone with you? A few feet away? At his age, with all his raging hormones. It'll make matters even worse. Look at the effect it has on me!'

'Starsky! I'm not expecting to cure him of anything. I want to talk to him. See what's going on in his head.'

'I can tell you what's going on in his head, darling. And I don't mean the head on his shoulders. It's the smaller one, further down, that's in charge.'

'I get that, Starsky. I don't entirely agree with you. I think there's more going on than that. Why has he been following us? What is he up to.... besides that! Will you stop.... Ignatios. Tell the boy I'll speak to him. What are you waiting for?'

Ignatios hesitated, clearly uncertain about the proper course of action. David Starsky was the head of the household. According to the letter of the law, the absolute master, with the power of life and death over everyone in his familias.

Kenneth Hutchinson, however, was the true ruler of the villa, and everyone knew it, including David Starsky. Master David rarely denied Master Kenneth anything he wished for. It was unlikely he'd do so now, even against his own better judgement.

'Ignatios. Wait a moment,' said Starsky. 'I'll come with you to speak to this boy first. I'll let him in, on my conditions. You can't see him alone, Hutch. I'll be there, and several of the servants as well, all of us armed to the teeth. He can speak with you out here, in the courtyard. Keep Viggo with you, too. That's final.'

'All that is unnecessary, Starsky,' said Hutch. 'But if it will make you happy, I agree.'

'It doesn't make me happy,' said Starsky. 'But I can live with it. Come on, Ignatios. Let's get this over with.'

Starsky stalked to the villa gates, trailed by Ignatios. It was frustrating, he thought, that he was the only one who could sense the menace in that boy. He understood why the others were dubious, but that didn't make their doubt easier to bear.

Certainly the kid didn't look dangerous at first glance. He was young, about sixteen perhaps, and slight for his age. Studious looking, rather than an athlete. The sort of boy who would be tormented by his peers. The sort of boy who might plot revenge in secret. Or plot a crime to gain the approval of those who had mocked him.

He belonged to a cult that preached the sinfulness of same-sex love. He looked at Hutch as though he were a starving dog, and Hutch were a hunk of prime rib steak.

No one but Starsky seemed to see the threat that lurked in those hungry eyes. As if the boy had a secret, such as an army hidden behind the far hill, just waiting for the signal to advance.

Starsky reached the gate. He didn't go outside, he ordered one of the guards to call the boy over. He didn't address the child himself. He told Ignatios to pass on his instructions.

'My master informs me that you can come inside Villa Starsky, on the following conditions,' said Ignatios. 'You are to follow the orders of my masters in all things while you are here. You are not to attempt to touch Master Kenneth Hutchinson. You are to speak when you are spoken to, and to be silent when so instructed. You are to leave when either of my masters orders you to go. If you break any one of these rules, you risk punishment, or even death. Do you understand these instructions?'

'What is this place?' said the boy. 'A prison camp?'

'It will be for you, if you come inside with that attitude,' said Ignatios. 'You are here on my masters' sufferance. And one other thing,' he continued. 'My masters wish to know your name.'

'I don't give out my name to sinners,' said the boy.

Starsky spoke to Ignatios. 'I'm not letting him inside, unless he gives me a name.'

'My master says...'

'I heard him,' said the boy. 'Why doesn't he speak to me?'

'Tell him we haven't been introduced,' said Starsky.

'My master says...'

'My name is John,' said the boy. 'John Smith.'

'Of course it is,' said Ignatios. 'Come inside, if you are still so inclined. But remember your instructions.'

'Yes, Masters,' said the boy.

'Ignatios, tell two of the guards to join us. Tell them to keep an eye on 'John Smith' at all times.'

Ignatios waved two guards over, and passed on Starsky's instructions. The boy stood listening to all this, with a sardonic look on his face. Starsky led the strange little parade out to the courtyard. Viggo rose to his feet as they appeared. He growled.

Well, thought Starsky. At least someone agrees with me.

Hutch was sitting cross-legged on the bench. He didn't get to his feet, as the others joined him. He looked beautiful, thought Starsky, dressed in one of his wild, Barbarian outfits, and adorned with gold and jewels. The gold and the jewels were not as beautiful as his eyes and face and hair. Hutch lit up the jewelry, not the other way around.

Hutch glanced at Starsky, inquiringly. Starsky said, 'This is John Smith.'

'Indeed,' said Hutch. 'John Smith?'

'It's my name,' said John. 'What's wrong with it?'

'Nothing,' said Hutch. 'If it is indeed your name. But forget that for a moment. Why have you been lurking outside our home, and following us, John Smith?'

'Oh,' said the boy. 'You noticed me?'

'Only because you are an annoyance,' said Hutch. 'But you haven't answered my question.'

The boy made as if to sit on the bench beside Hutch. Starsky stepped in front of his lover, and pulled his knife. The other guards drew their weapons, as well.

'Hey!' said the boy. 'I only want to sit down. Is this how you treat your guests?'

'You are not a guest,' said Hutch. 'Guests are polite. They are invited inside, because we like their company. Guests don't lurk outside our home, watching what we do, and where we go. Why were you doing these things?'

'Please,' said the boy. 'May I sit down?'

'That's better,' said Hutch. 'Ignatios. Bring a chair for John Smith. Put it there.' Hutch pointed to a spot a few feet away, under the shade of one of the mulberry trees. There was a little flower bed. It was a pretty spot. Starsky made a mental note to have the paving stones washed down after the boy left.

When their 'guest' was seated, Hutch resumed his questions.

'Do you feel like enlightening my ignorance now?' he asked.

'You are the men who attacked my people,' said the boy.

'That's one way of putting it, I suppose,' said Hutch. 'From your point of view, that must have been how it looked. We investigated several murders, and arrested the murderers.'

'My people aren't murderers,' said John Smith. 'My people are holy warriors, in the service of God.'

'Tell that to the men they murdered,' said Hutch.

'Those men were sinners. They were sacrificed to our God. Our God hates sinners, but he loves their blood.'

'How kind of him,' said Hutch. 'Human sacrifice is against the law, however. You should point that out to your God, and ask him to make a sacrifice of his own. Give up his taste in blood, and drink wine instead, like a civilized God.'

'Don't mock us. Your laws are evil. Your way of life in this house is evil. Don't you see that?'

'Why did you come here? To tell me that? Or did you have some other purpose?'

'I want you to see,' said the boy. 'To understand that we aren't the monsters. It's you. If you change your way of life now, there's still time.'

'Time for what?' Hutch asked.

'Time to live. Time to do what is right. Time to come to our God, and be safe.'

'Okay,' said Starsky. 'I think that's long enough. Hutch?'

'Yes, Starsky?'

'I want him to leave. Unless you think you can get more out of him than a sermon?'

'No. I think I've heard enough,' said Hutch.

'I don't know why you needed to hear that much,' said Starsky.

'Yes,' said John Smith. 'You turn away from the good. You close your ears to the truth. You ignore the prophets sent to save you. And you go on sinning.'

'That about covers it,' said Starsky. 'Any more last admonitions before I fall asleep?'

'All you do is mock me,' said the boy.

'Oh, no,' said Starsky. 'If you don't leave now, I'll do far more than that. Ignatios. See that he leaves, and make sure he doesn't steal anything on the way out.'

'Yes, Sir.'

'That's it, Ignatios,' said John Smith. 'Do as your master tells you.'

'I don't need orders from you,' said Ignatios. 'Please follow the guards. Your visit is over.'

Starsky watched as the child marched out. He didn't look defeated, thought Starsky. He looked triumphant. But what could this visit have accomplished? Surely he didn't believe that his childish words had had any effect?

'Starsk?'

Starsky turned at the gentle voice.

'I'm sorry, Starsky. You really are worried about that boy, aren't you? But I'm fine. See? In spite of my frailty. He never laid a hand on me.'

Starsky laughed. 'You're not frail, Hutch. You're stronger than anyone I know. But even the strongest man can be vulnerable. To trickery. To ambush. To guerrilla warfare. That kid's capable of anything. What did you accomplish by your little talk anyway?'

'Not much,' said Hutch. 'But something. If we're going to be Guardians, we have to deal with danger, and you can't protect me from everything. We need to understand all kinds of people, not only nice, safe ones.'

'True,' said Starsky. 'But then, we need to learn to trust each other's instincts, as well. Sometimes, it might not be a good idea to invite someone into our home. Maybe meeting on neutral ground would have been better. The restaurant down the street, perhaps?'

'Good idea. I'll try that next time. But I did learn a little from meeting John Smith close up. He's not any sort of a hardened fanatic. He's working out how to interact with the world, and he's still unsure of himself. His attitude towards us was copied from someone else. Probably someone much better at it, and with a more susceptible audience.'

'His father, maybe?'

'No, I don't think so,' said Hutch. 'Someone he sees as very charismatic, and attractive, rather than a boring authority figure. Someone he likes.'

'Someone sexy?'

Hutch laughed. 'Perhaps,' he said. 'Definitely someone he wants to be like. So, he thought he'd try out the technique on us. Of course, he's an amateur at it.'

'It doesn't matter how professional he gets to be. That wouldn't work on me.'

'It probably works on many people, though. It's a sort of hypnosis. Convincing your listeners that your version of reality is the right one, and theirs is all wrong.'

'That's what I mean,' said Starsky. 'Wouldn't work on me. I know our love is right. I'm right, and you're right.'

He pulled Hutch into his arms, and kissed his sweet lips.

'Do you forgive me for disobeying your commands, my Lord?' asked Hutch.

'I have to, don't I? Otherwise you'd make my life a misery.'

'No I wouldn't,' said Hutch. 'If I made you miserable, I'd be miserable too.'

**************

Starsky woke in the middle of the night. Hutch was sitting up in their bed. His breathing sounded laboured.

'Hutch? What's wrong?'

'I don't know. My nose is all clogged up, and my head feels stuffed with wool, or something.'

Starsky lit the oil lamp at the side of the bed, and looked Hutch over carefully.

'Your nose looks a little red,' he said. 'And your eyes are puffy. Maybe you're getting a cold?'

'I felt fine when we went to bed. Perhaps there's something in the air. Pollen from the garden, maybe.'

'I could go and rip all the plants out, and burn them?'

Hutch laughed. 'That would be a bit extreme, Starsky. It's the middle of the night. I'll check in the morning. See if some weeds got into the garden. They're the worst offenders, and they can spring up out of nowhere.'

'Okay,' said Starsky. 'But why don't you stop talking, and let me give you the David Starsky treatment for clogged noses.'

'What's that?' Hutch asked, innocently.

'You'll see. Lie back. That's right.'

Starsky took Hutch's cock in his mouth, and applied gentle suction. The cock increased in size, amazingly. It grew in length and thickness and seemed almost ready to burst within a few minutes. Starsky licked the head of Hutch's cock and ran his soft, furry tongue over the tiny slit at the end, as if he were going to force his tongue inside. Hutch groaned with pleasure.

'That's nice, Starsk,' he gasped. 'But I don't see how it will help my nose.'

Starsky took his mouth away from Hutch's penis long enough to explain.

'I'm going to suck you, until your brains explode out the end of your cock,' he said. 'That'll clear your head.'

Starsky went back to work.

**************

Hutch was already awake and out of bed, when Starsky woke up. Starsky found him in the courtyard, looking for weeds. He bent over one of the flower beds, under a mulberry tree, and started sneezing.

'Hey!' said Starsky. 'You let one of the slaves do that. That's what we bought them for. Ignatios! Bring my husband something hot to drink. Something with lemon. And get one of the servants to help him with the garden.'

'I'm fine, Starsky,' said Hutch.

'You are not fine,' said Starsky. 'Your nose looks like an apple, and your eyes... I can't find words.'

'I guess the honeymoon is over,' Hutch commented.

'No it's not, and it never will be. You're still the most beautiful man in all the world.... Ah! Thanks, Ignatios. Here you are, Hutch. Drink that! And you,' Starsky spoke to the servant who had come in with Ignatios. 'Clear the weeds out of the gardens, and burn them.'

'Hold on. Hold on,' said Hutch, to the servant. 'Don't just start pulling things out. I'll show you what's a weed and what isn't. There. Those things. Pull them, but be careful. I love those little blue flowers.'

The servant bowed, and went to work.

'They're ugly things, aren't they?' said Starsky. 'Where did they come from?'

'I don't know,' said Hutch, sipping at his hot drink. 'I didn't grow up here, so I don't recognize all the plants in the garden, let alone the weeds.'

'Master Kenneth?' said Ignatios. 'There's a woman who lives nearby. She's a gardener and a herb woman. Knows a lot of herbal remedies. She might recognize these weeds, and know how to control them.'

'Good idea,' said Hutch. 'We should keep one of the weeds to show her. But put it in a bag somewhere, and store it in one of the sheds, as far away from me as possible.'

Hutch started breathing a little easier, as soon as the weeds were out of the way.

'Finish drinking that,' said Starsky, indicating Hutch's forgotten cup. 'I have to go out for a while, but why don't you get some rest? Send messages to all your patients to reschedule your appointments.'

'I don't need to do that, Starsky. I'm not sick, just sneezing a little.'

'Why can't you do what I tell you once in a while, Hutch? Just occasionally would be nice. For show. To make it look as if I really am the master here.'

Hutch sighed. 'Okay,' he said. 'I'll send messages, and put the appointments off for today. But just for this one day. My patients need me, you know.'

'I know they need you.' said Starsky. 'But so do I need you.'

*******************

Holy Eros.

When you abandoned Psyche, you broke her heart. She had only wanted to see your true face. Wasn't that her right? She was your true love.

When you abandoned Psyche, she searched for you, all over the world. She suffered much pain, and wept many tears, but she never gave up hope.

Brave Psyche.

*********************

The Temple of Eros seemed quiet today. Maybe everyone was happy in their love life. But it was wise to go on praying to the God of Love, thought Starsky. Fortune could change, in an instant.

He rubbed sweet oil into the great phallus, and poured red wine before the golden statue of the God.

No rose petals today. Starsky was about to turn away, but one of the arrows that Eros was holding slipped from his hands. It landed at Starsky's feet.

***************************

It was time for the noon meal. Hutch wasn't in his office, or their bedroom. Nor was he in the courtyard, enjoying the fresh air.

'Master Kenneth has not returned home, Sir,' Ignatios informed him.

'Returned home? When did he go out, Ignatios?'

'We sent messages to all his patients, as he told us to do, Sir. But one of his patients didn't get the message, and showed up anyway. Master Kenneth decided to see him.'

'Yes?' said Starsky. 'And?'

'It appeared that this patient's home was haunted by a spirit, or a demon, Sir. Master Kenneth left with the patient, to perform some sort of exorcism.'

'When was this?'

'Not long after you left, Sir. I tried to persuade Master Kenneth to wait until you returned, but he was adamant. He said he wasn't an invalid, and he could handle a ghost, stuffy nose or not.'

'I know, Ignatios. It's not your fault. It's mine. I should have stayed around. Well, let me know as soon as my husband returns. That is all.'

'Yes, Sir.'

Starsky puttered around in his workroom for a while, after his lonely lunch. He was certain that there must be a way for people to communicate at long distances. And electricity had far more potential than most people realized. Perhaps electricity could be used to send messages? Then, he could signal Hutch to come home.

Lost in his dreams of being able to speak to his lover whenever he wished, he scarcely noticed the passing of the hours, until Ignatios scratched at his workroom door.

'Ah, Ignatios. Is Master Kenneth home?'

'No, Sir. He hasn't returned, and we've had no message from him. This is very unlike my master, Sir.'

'What time is it, Ignatios?'

'It's the fourth hour after noon, Sir. Master Kenneth has been gone since the second hour before noon.'

'By all the Gods, Ignatios. That's six hours. And Hutch wasn't feeling well, no matter what he said. Stubborn bastard!'

'Yes, Sir.'

'That's enough, Ignatios. How dare you speak about your master like that.'

'I'm sorry, Sir. I was only...'

'Never mind what you were only. What was this patient's name, and where does he live? Find out. I'm going there to see what's wrong. Tell several of the guards to join me. Arm them with everything we've got. And make that half a dozen guards.'

They were walking down the hall to Starsky's study. One of the slaves came running up, looking upset.

'Ignatios!' she said. 'Oh! My master, Sir. It's Viggo, Sir. The wolf.'

'What about him, Irena?' Starsky asked.

'He's returned home alone, Sir. And he's hurt. He's limping.'

Viggo was limping down the hall toward them, as the slave spoke. He limped to Starsky's feet, and licked them.

Starsky bent and stroked Viggo's bloody head. 'That's a good boy,' he said. 'What happened, Viggo? Who took the one we love? Who do I kill? Tell me.'

Viggo whined, but Starsky couldn't understand wolf language, as Hutch did. Only Hutch could speak with Viggo, and Hutch wasn't here.

*******************

'Ignatios, see that Viggo is well cared for. I'll be back with his master. Eventually. And with the corpses of the men who took him. Viggo can eat them for dinner.'

'Yes, Sir.'

'Have you seen John Smith around today?'

'No, Sir. I haven't seen him since we pushed him out the gate yesterday.'

'He had a part in this. A big part.'

'I agree, Sir.'

'Send out some of our men, to search the city for him. Tell them not to hurt him more than necessary. I want him in as good shape as possible so he can answer my questions. Then Viggo can eat him, too. Alive if he likes.'

'Of course, Master.'

'Oh, and send a message to Prince Marcus, informing him that Hutch has gone missing. I'd write it myself, but I don't have the time. Open the gates!'

The gates swung open, and Starsky rode out, at the head of a dozen armed guards on horseback. Ten minutes later, they clattered up to the front gate of the address Ignatios had given them.

The front yard of the house, where Hutch's patient supposedly lived, was neat and clean. The house itself had every sign of being lived in. It was empty, however, even of ghosts. Except for a few signs of a struggle, including some blood on the floor, Starsky would have thought he had the wrong place.

Hutch was alive, he had to believe that. Starsky would find him, if he had to tear down every building in Rome.

************************

The villa courtyard was in chaos, as Starsky rode back in. Groups of guards were riding in and out. Riding in with the information that they had seen no sign of John Smith. Riding out with new directions on where to look for him.

Ignatios was a treasure, thought Starsky. When Hutch was found, and they finally set up the Guardians, he was going to free Ignatios, and hire him, in some organizational capacity. Ignatios had a big map set up in the courtyard, and the City blocked off in numbered squares. Clerks were making rough copies of each square, and giving the copies to the guards sent to look for Smith. In the half hour that Starsky had been gone, they had searched ten squares.

At this rate, they'd find Smith sometime in the next century. Starsky didn't say so. Ignatios was doing a good job. What he needed was more men, not Starsky's criticism.

Prince Marcus arrived, an answer to Starsky's prayer. He had a small band of Praetorians with him.

'David!' said Marcus, as he dismounted. 'What's this I hear about Hutch? How could he be abducted in broad daylight?'

'He was tricked, Marc. He thought he was helping someone.'

'Ah. That sounds like Hutch. But how are they keeping him captive? Hutch is a powerful witch. Why hasn't he escaped by now?'

'Ignatios. Send someone to find that herb woman you were telling us about. And I want that bag of weeds Hutch told you to put away. I'll bet you anything you like they have something to do with this.'

******************

The herb woman turned out to be plump, and middle-aged, and to know a lot about the flora of Italy. She bustled cheerfully into the villa courtyard and shook Starsky's hand, introducing herself as Martha.

'I've been wanting to meet you,' she said. 'I like how you and your husband have fixed up this villa. The gardens are looking good.'

'Thanks,' said Starsky impatiently. 'Unfortunately, my husband has gone missing. These weeds might be part of the reason.'

'Weeds?' she asked, bewildered. She turned them over and over in her hands, studying the strange, dark green leaves. 'I know what this is,' she said after a moment. 'This is Mage Bane.'

'Mage Bane?' Starsky asked.

'It's very rare, and I've never seen it around Rome. Mostly, it grows at higher elevations. How did it get in your garden?'

'It was planted there,' said Starsky. 'And I know by whom. Now, how does this Mage Bane work?'

'It dulls the senses,' said Martha. 'And the mind. It makes it almost impossible to perform any sort of Mage craft.'

'Like fighting ghosts, or demons, or other witches?' asked Starsky.

'Or even knowing they're there,' said Martha.

'Do the effects wear off?'

'Oh, yes,' said Martha. 'After several days.'

*****************************

It was dark, a night without stars. It was cold, and damp, and he was lying on something hard and unyielding as stone. That was strange, he thought. The last he remembered, it was a warm, sunny morning. His Lord was kissing him goodbye, and telling him to rest. He decided to read in his Lord's study, because he felt so at peace there, surrounded by his Lord's love and tenderness.

Why was he here, in this horrible darkness? Was this another test? To which of the many branches of the World Tree had he been sent now? What would he have to endure, so that he could go home? His Lord must be so worried. He reached out, and touched stone walls. The walls were damp, and dirty. He hated the feeling of sliminess on his hands, but when he tried to wipe them on his clothes, he discovered he was naked. He touched his own body, and discovered that in this Otherworld, he was still male. Also he was chained to the stone walls, with heavy chains.

So, he was male, he was in some sort of stone prison, it was dark, and cold, and he didn't know how long he had been here. He ached all over, and yes, there was something on his head that felt like dried blood. He decided to try to learn something more useful.

'Hello?' he called.

After a moment, he heard a creaking noise that might be a door opening. A crack of light appeared, and then a tall, dark figure was silhouetted against the glow.

'So, you're awake,' said a deep, male voice.

'Yes,' he answered. 'Why am I here?'

The man stepped forward, and hit him across the face.

'You don't ask the questions here. I do.'

'And who are you?' he asked his attacker.

The man hit him again. 'Shut up!' he ordered.

'I don't take orders from you,' he answered, and waited for the next blow. Before it could fall, someone else appeared in the doorway of his prison. He held a lamp, and it lit the cell, while obscuring his own face.

The newcomer laughed. 'You're wasting your time,' he said. 'You could beat him senseless, and it would have no effect. He's just toying with you.'

'It seems you know me well,' he observed to the new arrival.

'We have met,' the newcomer informed him. He limped into the cell, and held the lamp so that the light showed his scarred face. One of his arms was badly crippled.

'You are responsible for my present condition,' the newcomer continued. 'You stole something from me, and I want it back. My name is Arac.'

***********************

Holy Eros.

When Psyche had suffered enough, and had proven her love enough, she was allowed to find you. Zeus granted her divine status, so she could move to Mount Olympus.

You are Immortal, and can enjoy the union of Love and the Soul for all eternity.

Happy Eros.

Happy Psyche.

**************************

Starsky rubbed sweet oil, mixed with his tears, onto the great phallus in the Temple of Eros. He approached the altar, and poured red wine before the God.

Holy Eros, he prayed. My love has been captured by our enemies. Our enemies want to tear down your Temple, and the temples of every other God, and replace them with temples to their own God.

Defend the Temple of Love. Defend your servants, David and Kenneth, who worship you every night.

No rose petals fell. No arrows slipped from the God's hands.

Starsky was about to turn away, but tears appeared in the God's eyes, and slid down his golden cheeks.

************************

'What do we have so far?' asked Prince Marcus.

'I talked to the neighbours around that house that Hutch was led to,' said Starsky, glumly. 'Apparently, it was rented only last month, and the tenants cleared out the morning Hutch disappeared. That's normal in their neighbourhood, and they thought nothing of it. They didn't hear any suspicious sounds, either.'

'So this whole thing was planned,' said Marcus.

'It looks like it,' said Starsky.

'Martha says that Mage Bane is rare, and grows mostly in the North,' Sweet Angel added. 'That could be a thread.'

'A thread?' asked Starsky. 'Oh, yes. Like in your weaving.'

'Yes. You need to pull the right thread, remember?'

'Well, let's see,' said Marcus. 'We could talk with some Mages from the North. How readily available is Mage Bane?'

'From the sounds of it,' said Sweet Angel. 'It should be under tight control. Mages wouldn't want it growing in every garden, like a weed.'

'No,' said Starsky.

**************************

'You must be thirsty,' said Arac. 'Are you thirsty?'

He made no answer.

'You're very brave, you know that? You never flinch, no matter what I do. How you must have suffered in your training, to become so deadened to all pain. I've really just been having fun with you, up to this point. But now we should drop the games, and get down to business, and I want you awake, and alert. So I think you should have something to drink.'

He made no answer, nor did he open his mouth when ordered to.

'Tch,' said Arac. 'Do I have to make you do everything? I guess I do. You're like a child. A stubborn, disobedient child. Though not as stupid as the dolts I'm forced to put up with in this dump. You know, we could make a great team, if you'd only cooperate. You have all that power locked away inside you, and you're hording it. Not using it. Now, does that make sense?'

He stared up at the dirty, damp ceiling, and wondered what did make sense. Nothing this creature said made sense. He babbled on and on about power, and some God that wanted to take over from the other Gods, and how they could help this God, and get power for themselves. And here they were, in some dank, rat infested hole.

He knew what power was. Real power. He'd felt it, touched it, accepted it into every fibre of his being. That had happened when his Lord had claimed him, in that wild, passionate ceremony of love, in which they had very nearly become one body, as well as one soul.

This snivelling, crawling, vicious creature knew nothing of power. His Lord had power.

He smiled.

'What's so funny?' asked Arac. 'You think I'm joking, don't you? I'm not. I'll get back what's mine, and then I'll take my revenge. As soon as I'm whole again, I'll fuck you until you scream for mercy. And I'll leave your raped and tortured body for your boyfriend to find. Unless you decide to join me, that is. Perhaps you're wondering why I haven't taken him, and brought him here to torture him before your eyes. I don't have to, do I? You just think about him finding your body. Think about how he'll feel, when he sees the wounds I'll leave, when he imagines me raping you. Think about that.'

He closed his eyes.

'Ah, yes,' said Arac. 'I've found a way to get to you, now haven't I?'

**********

'You should get some sleep.'

'Yes, my Prince.'

'But you probably won't, I know. Do you want us to stay here tonight?'

'No, my Prince.'

Prince Marcus sighed. 'David, trust me, we'll find him. I love him almost as much as you do. I know you want to take the City apart stone by stone, and so do I. And so I will, if we don't find him soon. Believe that. I have the power, and in this case I won't be afraid to use it.'

'I believe you, Marc. And I know we'll find him. But I want to be alone. I can't bear....'

Sweet Angel started to reach out to touch his arm, but drew back, as if she understood.

Starsky couldn't bear to be touched by anyone at this moment. He watched Marcus and his lover walk out the gate. It reminded him of that beautiful night, when they had shared the worship of the God and Goddess of love. Hutch had been so shy at first. His golden skin had flushed, and a fine sheen of sweat had broken out all over his body. But he couldn't help being excited by the rites of love. He couldn't help but be moved by the power those rites engendered. His entire body had shaken under Starsky's stroking hands. When Starsky had taken his cock in his mouth....

Starsky wanted to get drunk, so drunk that he wouldn't remember his own name. But he needed to be absolutely sober, and clear headed. At any moment, a clue might be found, or a message might be sent. Hutch might escape, and make his way home, and then he'd need Starsky.

The Gods only knew what his abductors were doing to him.

***************************

'Are you awake?'

He sat up, and looked around the dark cell. That was a different voice. A woman's voice. What was a woman doing in here?

'So, you're awake,' the woman said.

'Yes,' he whispered.

'No need to whisper, there's no one else in here with us. And the guard outside is asleep.'

'That's... that's good. But who are you? And how do you know all this?'

'You don't remember me?'

He laughed. 'No,' he said. 'I don't remember you. I don't even remember myself.'

There was silence in the cell for so long that he began to think he had dreamt the whole conversation.

Then, the voice asked, 'What do you remember?'

'I remember my Lord. I remember his love. I remember I wasn't feeling well, and he told me to rest. Then, I remember waking up here.'

'And that's all?'

'Little flashes of other things. A wolf. A ship on the sea. Making love with my Lord. He's very... well, that's private, and it's not much help.'

'Your name is Kenneth Hutchinson. You are a Mage. You bound me to your service, and here I am. Gillian.'

'Gillian. That sounds familiar. But how can you serve me? We're locked in a dungeon.'

'You're locked in a dungeon. I'm not. I can pass through the walls, and see where we are. For a start.'

'You can pass through the walls?' he asked. 'What are you? A ghost?'

'Yes,' the voice answered him, and then it was silent once more.

************************

Starsky wandered out to the dark courtyard. It was here he had said goodbye to Hutch that last morning, and it was easier to be here, than in their bedroom. Hutch had been so miserable, and Starsky had promised him another treatment for his clogged nose later.

Viggo whined, and crawled to his feet, and hung his head, as if he thought Starsky blamed him for something. For not dying in Hutch's defense, perhaps. He knew Viggo would have died to save Hutch, without ever once considering running away. Hutch must have ordered him to leave, to run home to Starsky. It meant Hutch had been alive when Viggo left him, otherwise Viggo would have died there with him. It meant Hutch thought Starsky would need Viggo's help to find him.

Starsky stroked Viggo's bowed head. 'Don't worry, boy. You and I will go out together. Tomorrow, I promise. You're in good enough shape now, I think. We'll track down that John Smith between us. How's that sound?'

Viggo looked up. He whined, then growled.

'I'll take that as a yes,' said Starsky. 'We'll find John Smith, and we'll ask him one or two questions. Then you can have him to play with, if you like.'

Viggo growled.

*********************

'Are you still awake?'

'Yes,' he said. 'It's too cold to sleep. And I don't want to be so vulnerable.'

'I'm back,' said the voice. 'I can warn you, if anyone comes. And I can warm you, too. You need some sleep.'

Hutch felt a warm, ghostly cloud wrapping itself around him.

'What's that?' he asked.

'It's me,' said the voice. 'I'm all around you. You're inside me.'

'I thought ghosts were cold,' he said.

'You were misinformed,' said the voice. 'Perhaps we seem cold to others, but not to ourselves. If you touched me, I'd feel cold to your hands. But you're inside me, so you're as warm as I am.'

'I guess that makes sense,' he said. 'I've never been inside a ghost before, that I remember. What did you learn, while you were away?'

'We're in a big, stone building. It looks a bit like a castle from outside. We're partway up a mountain, or something. It was hard to tell. It's dark.'

'It's dark?' he asked. 'Does that bother ghosts?'

'Not much, but some. I don't see everything clearly, even in the sunlight. But the light helps.'

'Well, I know a little more now. Were there mountains where we lived before? Does my Lord live on a mountain?'

'No,' said the voice. 'No mountains.'

'Then, I guess we're far away from my Lord. He might not know where we are. He might not know where to look for us.'

'I think he doesn't know,' said the voice. 'So we'll have to escape. Get some sleep, and gather all your strength. And I'll help.'

He was sleepy, and the voice was soothing, promising escape. Promising that they'd find his Lord again. He slept.

**************************

Dawn broke, cold and heartless.

Hutch had always woken with the dawn, and slipped out of bed before Starsky could open his eyes. Starsky would hear him, moving around their bedroom, or singing in the bath, or bustling around the kitchen making breakfast, and getting under the cook's feet, or playing with Viggo in the courtyard. Starsky would smile at the familiar sounds, that in only a few short months had become necessary to his happiness, and go back to sleep, knowing all was well.

Dawn had now become the harbinger of a new day in Hades.

Starsky stirred at the first heartbreaking bird songs, and stretched out his tired and aching muscles. It seemed he had slept a little, curled on Hutch's favourite bench in the courtyard. Viggo opened an eye, looked around, sniffed, realized Hutch had not come home in the night, and howled.

Starsky wanted to join him, but he couldn't make a sound. He went to the kitchen, and grabbed a hunk of dry bread and cheese. He found some meat for Viggo, and they had breakfast.

'Come on, boy,' he managed to whisper. 'Let's go hunting.'

**********************

'Wake up,' said the voice. 'Someone's coming.'

He opened his eyes, and prepared himself. It wasn't Arac, however, but a tall, dark man, probably the one who had beaten him that first day.

The man had brought him some water, and dry bread. 'He doesn't want you to starve,' said his jailer. 'He wants you to live so he can punish you later, and you'll wish you'd starved now.'

'How thoughtful of him,' he observed.

The dark man hit him, as if by habit. 'Eat your breakfast,' he said. 'And let it digest so you won't throw it up later. It's getting smelly in here.'

'I noticed,' he answered. 'But it got worse after you came in.'

The man lifted his hand as if to hit him, then stopped, and laughed. 'Do you like being beaten?' he asked. 'Does it give you pleasure?'

'No,' he answered. 'I don't think so.'

'Then why do you keep making me angry?'

'It amuses me. It's so easy. I just say something and you react violently. What are you, one of his assassins? Are you a revived corpse or something? Don't you ever think for yourself?'

The man stood still for a moment, as if thinking. 'No,' he said at last, and hit him again.

When the jailer left, the voice commented, 'We should try to escape today.'

'No. I want to learn more about these people. What are they up to?'

'That would be foolish,' said the voice. 'You don't know when one of them will go too far, or how long you can hold out against that evil witch.'

'Is that what he is? A witch? And evil?'

'Yes,' said the voice. 'Can't you tell?'

'I don't think so. I told you, I seem to know little, even about myself. You must be my eyes and ears. Try to learn all you can. I don't think this is foolish. We don't even know where we are, and to try to escape.... It may sound like the wisest choice of action, but not if we don't know where we're escaping to.'

'You're right. You are a Mage, even if you don't remember that. So. You want me to be a spy?'

'A spy. Yes. Gather as much information about these people as possible. Even things that may not seem to be useful to us. I think my Lord would be interested.'

'I will do so,' said the voice, and then the voice seemed to leave the cell.

Gillian, he thought. Her name is Gillian. And I am Kenneth. Kenneth Hutchinson. I must remember that. Keep it in mind.

But my Lord calls me something else. What is it? What does he call me? I must remember. He waited for Gillian to return, and called up every memory he had of his Lord, trying to remember his name.

Hutch, he finally thought. My Lord calls me Hutch. Now I know who I am.

*************

Starsky paused in the villa doorway, wondering where to start.

'Do you remember how John Smith smells, Viggo? How his voice sounds?''

Viggo whined, and his eyes gleamed.

'That's good, but Rome is a great city, full of many smells, and sounds. We still need somewhere to begin. Let's see how far the others have gotten.'

Viggo trotted after him, into Starsky's study. There were maps, and pieces of paper with notes on them, all over Starsky's desk. There was an order to the chaos, however. Starsky found the large map of the entire City. Ignatios and his teams of searchers had started looking right around the villa, and fanned out from there. All that was well and good.

Where should Starsky and Viggo start their hunt?

Starsky moved restlessly around his study, thinking. There were little reminders all over the room, that Hutch had loved to be here too. Books. Sheet music. A half finished drawing.

A little black velvet bag, that looked as if it held jewellery.

Starsky opened it, and poured the contents into his hands. They were small, white stones, with some sort of strange lettering carved into them.

Starsky remembered Hutch telling him they were used in fortune telling. He had no idea how to do this, but saw no reason why he couldn't make up his own methods.

He chose one stone at random, and put the others away.

The carved side means 'yes', he thought, and the blank side means 'no'.

Viggo and I are hunting for a boy who calls himself John Smith. Does he know we're hunting for him?

He tossed the stone. It landed face up. Yes. So far, so good, he thought.

Viggo and I are looking for a boy who calls himself John Smith. Is he still in Rome?

Yes.

My men have been searching for John Smith for days. He might have fled before them, or he might have doubled back.

Has he doubled back?

Yes.

Ah. That makes sense. He looked as if he had a certain cunning, even if he was basically stupid. I wonder. How close might he be?

Starsky studied the map again. The very first area to be searched had been right here, close to the villa. That was a possibility, but John Smith might see that as too dangerous. There would be too many moments when he might be seen, as the searchers left the villa and returned. A bit further out, then.

Starsky decided to do a quick sweep of the villa's immediate surroundings, just to be on the safe side. Then, he'd start moving further out, in a circular direction. He'd forget about the maps, he thought, and move purely on instinct.

He told Viggo his plan, as they started out from the villa. The wolf smiled, showing his long, white fangs.

****************************

'Are you awake?' asked Gillian.

'Yes,' said Hutch. 'Arac hasn't been around. Yet.'

'He's not feeling well. He's sent for more victims.'

'Victims?'

'He's trying to build up his strength, by dark magic. Blood sacrifice.'

'Ah. Blood sacrifice does give you strength, but it weakens you, as well. You become dependent on it, like a drug, and you need more and more blood, just to feel normal. What else have you learned?'

'You fought this Arac before, and you won. You killed him, but he came back to life. His men think he's an avatar of their God now.'

'Wonderful. That means he can do no wrong, and they'd be willing to die for him.'

'Probably. We are part way up a mountain, but not too far. When we escape, we shouldn't use the beaten track, so I hunted out a side path.'

'Good. But we need to make more detailed plans for our actual escape from this cell first, don't you think? And in case you didn't notice, I'm chained to the wall.'

'Oh. Oh, yes. I'm sorry. I'm so used to being able to move about freely.'

'And walk through walls, I know. Never mind. I'll figure something out. One other thing I'm wondering about. It was the first thing I wondered when I woke up here, in fact. What branch of the World Tree is this?'

'The World Tree? Branch?'

'Is this our world? Or have we been taken to another world? I need to know.'

Gillian was silent for a moment. 'I think this is our own world,' she finally said. 'It doesn't look, or feel, any different to me.'

'That's good,' said Hutch. 'That makes it easier for me to find our way home. Now, let's discuss ways to get me out of these chains. We have to be ready at any moment. I don't suppose you could steal a key?'

'I could,' said Gillian. 'But I couldn't carry it to you.'

'I thought so,' said Hutch. 'Then we have to break the chains somehow... I've got an idea. Listen carefully....'

************************

They had left the villa at dawn, and now, it was night. Starsky had no idea how late at night, but it had been dark for hours. He didn't know where they were, other than in a stinking alley, in one of the roughest brothel districts, but it didn't matter. Viggo could lead him home, if that was where he wanted to go.

It wasn't. Or, to be truthful, he did want to go home, but home was where Hutch was.

His hand found the stone he was carrying in his pocket. The stone -- Hutch's stone -- had told him that John Smith was near. He would find him. It was just a matter of time.

A little voice inside his head told him that he could use the stone to see if Hutch were in Rome, or far away. Or he could ask the stone if Hutch were still....

No. No. That was vilest treason. Hutch was alive. There was no question of that.

He sank to the ground, and put his back against the slimy wall. Viggo came, and rested his huge head in Starsky's lap. Sitting on the ground, in an alley just outside a brothel, they fell asleep.

*************************

Prince Marcus rode into the villa courtyard. The guards and the servants were used to his arrivals after all these months, and usually gave him the same attention they gave everyone else. Tonight was different.

The guards looked even more alert than they had for the past few days. The servants looked pale and terrified.

'My Prince! My Prince! Have you seen Master David?'

'Not today, Ignatios. I haven't heard a word. I came here to speak to him.'

'Oh, by all the Gods and Goddesses. My master left the villa this morning, before anyone else was awake. He left no message, but he took Viggo with him, and some of the maps I made. I suppose he went looking for that John Smith. But we've heard no word.'

'I wouldn't worry, Ignatios. I doubt he's been abducted. If they wanted to take him, surely they would have done it before now. I hope so anyway. He must have decided to keep on searching after dark. I'll stay here tonight, if you don't mind.'

'Thank you, my Prince. I'm trying to keep the household calm, but with both our masters missing....'

'I've sent the Praetorians north, with warrants to bring back Mages who might know something about Mage Bane,' the prince continued as they walked down the hall to Starsky's study. Ignatios had done well organizing the entire search for John Smith, and both the prince and Starsky had gotten into the habit of discussing all new developments with him.

'I hope they can tell us something useful. We've learned nothing new for the last few days,' said Ignatios. 'It's interesting. My master took the maps of the areas we'd already searched.'

'Ah. Clever of him. If John Smith is aware of the hunt, he may well be hiding close by. Keep up your search tomorrow, Ignatios. Your quarry will think you've missed him, and he won't be on the lookout for one man, and a wolf.'

'Yes, my Prince.'

*****************************

Starsky was awakened a few hours later by Viggo's insistent whining. That, and a rather gruesome smell nearby. He opened his eyes slowly and carefully. Viggo woofed, just a little, then bent to the ground, and picked something up in his teeth.

It dangled. It dripped blood. It was a freshly killed rat.

Viggo shook it, enticingly, and dropped it on the ground again. He woofed. The message was clear. Dinner. Come and get it.

Starsky fought down nausea, in the interests of being polite.

'Thanks, Viggo,' he said. 'I'm not hungry. You can have it.'

Viggo snorted. He snuffled at the rat, and nudged it toward Starsky. Starsky bent and petted Viggo's head.

'I really appreciate it, boy. But I couldn't eat. Not anything. You go ahead.'

Viggo gave an almost human sigh. He picked up the small corpse, and swallowed it whole, head first. Starsky watched with fascination, as the hind feet slid down Viggo's throat. He thought he'd probably never eat again, not any form of food.

'Thanks, Viggo,' he said. 'Good wolf.'

Viggo snorted again, and looked disgusted with the fussy human.

*************************

'He's coming,' said Gillian, and slipped back into her hiding place in Hutch's soul. The cell door opened. Arac stood in the doorway.

'What took you so long?' Hutch asked. 'Get all tied up?'

Arac laughed. 'You surprise me,' he said.

'Really? Wish I could return the compliment, but there's nothing about you that surprises me.'

'I thought you cared about him, enough to spare him the pain of finding you raped and murdered, but I guess I was wrong. Perhaps you're coming to my way of thinking after all. Why bother with ordinary humans, except as slaves? They're weak and stupid.'

'Your slaves are, at least,' said Hutch.

'Don't you see how powerful we could be, once we joined forces?'

'So, you're ready to come over to my side, at last?' asked Hutch.

'Your side?' Arac laughed. 'I meant that you should come over to my side.'

'I think you're confused,' said Hutch. 'I have a master already. I don't need another.'

'A master? You mean David Starsky? Who is he to be your master? How could you....'

'Ah, but he earned the right to be called my master. He won me, in battle, and fed me the heart of my enemy. What have you done for me? Attacked me. Abducted me. Tortured me. Threatened to rape me.'

'I see. You're saying you can be won, but not by force?'

'I'm not saying anything. Just pointing out that you've done nothing to convince me to join your side. So far, your side looks like a torture chamber. And it stinks in here, too. All I want is to get as far away from you as possible.'

Arac was silent for a long moment. He got up and paced the cell.

'I don't know what you're up to,' he said at last. 'But what you say does have some merit. I can see that torturing a proud and powerful man like you can only lead to resentment. I'll consider your words, and let you know my decision tomorrow. In the meantime, I'll send a woman down to clean up the cell. She'll bring you something more appetising than bread and water. Does that meet with your approval?'

'The only thing that could meet with my approval, is to get out of here,' Hutch snarled.

Arac laughed. 'I wouldn't have expected any less,' he said. 'Just be patient. I'm not ready to trust you yet.'

He turned toward the door.

'What?' asked Hutch. 'No torture today?'

'I'm tired,' said Arac. 'I'll make up for it tomorrow, don't worry.'

And he was gone.

'Did you hear all that?' Hutch asked Gillian. 'Get ready. Now's our chance.'

**********************

Starsky ached all over. He was stiff in places he really didn't want to be stiff. And his cock didn't seem to know that its mate was missing. It kept waking up, and looking around.

'Forget it,' Starsky told his groin. 'He's gone, remember. No fun and games until we find him again. Why don't you try to come up with a clever idea or two on how to do that, instead of whining and complaining?'

Viggo looked at him curiously, as if wondering who he was talking to, but then seemed to shrug, as though reminding himself that humans were strange. He woofed softly, then turned suddenly, and disappeared.

'Viggo,' Starsky called after him. 'If you catch another rat, eat it yourself.'

Viggo woofed back, and kept on running.

Starsky figured he'd be back shortly, and it was really still too dark to carry on his search. He decided to wait, and carry on his conversation with his cock, instead.

'You know,' he said. 'I'd like to take you out to play, but that doesn't work for me right now. It would just remind me. His voice. His eyes. His mouth. His hands. How he looks when he comes. The sounds he makes. God! I'd feel miserable, and start to cry. And my word goes. I'm the boss, not you, not any more.'

'Oh, bugger!' said a voice from the darkness.

For a moment, Starsky thought his cock had learned how to talk back. Then, he saw a tall, dark shape silhouetted against the faint light from the street.

'There's just more and more of them around. Talking to themselves. On the streets. In the stores. Everywhere. Now, even in the alleys. Hey, you! Don't you know this area ain't safe?'

Starsky launched himself off the ground in one swift movement, and before the other man could draw a breath, he was flat on his back, with Starsky on top.

'Who are you?' Starsky asked. 'And what are you doing sneaking around this alley?'

'Hey, man! I could ask you the same thing. This is kind of my alley, you know? But if you want it, you can have it.'

'I don't want it,' said Starsky. 'I want to know who you are.'

'Who I are? No problem. I'm Ursus. Now, can you back off, and let me be?'

Starsky thought for a moment, then decided this Ursus was no threat.

'I'm sorry,' he said as he helped the man to his feet. 'Someone abducted my husband the other day, and I've been looking for him ever since.'

'Well, I'm no abductor,' said Ursus. 'But why are you looking for your husband in an alley behind a whorehouse? At dawn?'

'I'm looking for someone who might know where he is,' said Starsky. 'Someone who had something to do with his disappearance. He calls himself John Smith, but that might be an alias. He's young, about sixteen. Slender. Not too tall. Dirty blond hair, and brown eyes. Have you seen someone like that?'

'Oh, sure,' said Ursus. 'Lots of guys like that.'

'Ah, but this one is probably on the run from me. He's trying to hide out. Also, he belongs to a strange religious cult. You may have heard of them recently? They practice human sacrifice.'

'I have heard of them. Really strange people,' said Ursus. 'And you know something? I do know several of them, including a kid who looks just like that.'

'You do?' asked Starsky, hardly able to breathe. 'Yeah,' said Ursus. 'His father owns a whorehouse, not far from here. It's called The Little Flower.'

'The Little Flower?' asked Starsky, disgusted.

'Yeah. They specialize in little girls. Very little girls.'

'That's illegal,' said Starsky.

'So are lots of things,' said Ursus. 'But you can always find someone to sell them.... By Hades Balls! What's that?'

'That? Oh, Viggo. What have you done now?'

Viggo was carrying a paper bag in his mouth. He dropped it at Starsky's feet. Starsky opened it, a little nervously. It was full of food. Bread. Cheese. An apple.

'This looks like someone's lunch, Viggo. What did you do, steal it?'

Viggo woofed happily. 'This more to your taste?' he seemed to ask.

***********************

Hutch kept his head down, as the cell door creaked open, trying to look as depressed and weak and helpless as possible. He heard a clink and a thump. Probably a pail of water, and a mop being set down inside the door, he thought.

His jailer came over, and kicked him. 'Wake up!' he said. 'Here's dinner. And she's going to clean up, so I won't have to put up with your stink any longer.'

'That's good,' Hutch muttered. 'What's she going to do about your stink?'

The dark man hit him, and left the cell, closing the door behind him. Hutch looked up, and studied the small, slender woman who had come in as well.

She was carrying a tray, and the smell of the food was indeed enticing. She came toward him, and put the tray on the floor, then studied his bound hands.

'Can you eat this by yourself?' she asked.

'I'm not sure,' said Hutch. 'Perhaps you should help me.'

The woman sighed, and sat on the floor beside him, then turned to pick up something from the tray.

Hutch grabbed her, and pressed hard against a particular spot in her neck. His Lord had told him that if you pressed there, you could render someone unconscious. His Lord had been right. The woman slumped over, without a sound.

'Gillian?' he called.

'I'm here, O Wise Mage.'

'I'm ready. Are you?'

'As ready as I'll ever be.'

Hutch grabbed his chains, wrapping his hands around the two weakest links he had been able to find. He called on every vestige of his depleted powers. He must break free now, he thought. He couldn't count on Arac trusting his seeming capitulation, and freeing him. Arac was far too clever for that.

He could feel power flowing along his arms, down into his hands. Power. The power that his Lord had given him, when he had fed him the heart of his enemy. When they had joined their souls, and become one. His Lord was feeding him more power now, he knew. Could his Lord feel it? Did he know now that his Hutch was alive, and needing him?

The chain glowed. Red hot. Then white hot. His hands burned, but still he hung on. In another moment, the metal might turn molten, and he would be unable to bear the pain.

'Gillian!' he gasped. 'Now!'

He dropped the fiery chains, and Gillian wrapped them in her ghostly hands. Her cold, ghostly hands. Hutch could only hope that the cold would be enough.

It was. The chains cracked. The crack was loud. As loud as a gunshot. The cell door opened once more.

'What the Hades was that?' asked his jailer.

'I don't know,' said Hutch. 'I heard a loud cracking noise, and then she just fell over.' He nodded at the woman, lying on the floor beside him. 'Do you suppose she's dead?' he asked.

'O for Hades' sake.' The dark jailer approached, looking cautious, but curious. He bent over the woman and shook her.

'You!' he said 'Wake up. You have work to do.'

The woman didn't move.

'Women!' said the jailer. 'They're so weak and useless. What happened again?' he asked.

'I told you,' said Hutch. 'There was a loud cracking sound. Like this...'

He grabbed the man's head with his newly freed hands. He pulled back, at the same time as he twisted the head to the left.

There was a loud cracking sound.

'And then, she just lay still,' Hutch continued. 'Like that.'

****************

Starsky studied the doorway to The Little Flower. The doorway was not out on the open street, as it would be with any respectable whorehouse. This place would be guarded by dogs. Any human guards would have orders to shoot intruders. None of that worried Starsky. He'd invaded more dangerous places.

'Ursus?' he said. 'See if you can find the City Guard. The Praetorians would be better, but I doubt they'd be out this early. Bring them here.'

'Uh huh? And why would they take orders from me?'

'Tell them the orders originated with David Starsky,' he answered. 'And tell them I showed you this.'

He pulled out his warrant from Prince Marcus. It bore the Prince's Seal, and the Seal of the Imperial Executioner, with the single, terrifying word: CARNIFEX.

'They'll follow you,' said Starsky. 'Or I'll know the reason why.'

*****************

Starsky found a hiding place in a dark doorway across the street, and settled down to wait for Ursus to return with the City Guard. It galled him to wait, and do nothing, but he knew that was the wisest course of action.

He wanted John Smith. He wanted him alive, and now. It was likely that the boy had told his friends and family what David Starsky and Viggo the Wolf looked like. The moment Starsky showed up at the door of The Little Flower, John Smith would be out through some bolt hole or other. No. Starsky needed back up. He needed to get inside the whorehouse, before the boy could be warned.

Viggo whined and growled beside him.

'I know, boy. Don't worry, it's early. Whorehouses don't wake up for a few hours, yet.'

As if to brand him a liar, the door of The Little Flower opened. Two men appeared in the alley. One was black. The other was blond, and clearly a relative of John Smith. The father perhaps?

'You were right, Douglas,' said the black man. 'That drug works. She hardly moved the whole time. Didn't cry or anything. Just lay there and let me do anything to her.'

'I know,' the blond man answered. 'I told you it worked like magic. Of course, some men like them to scream. I have a drug that makes them act like wild animals being tortured, even if you don't hurt them all that much. Makes some men feel like real men, you see.'

'I'll get someone else to try that one for me. I like them quiet,' said the other man. 'If it works like you say it does, I'll take several bottles of that too. My little parties are going to be even more popular, with your help.'

'You find me more girls,' said his companion. 'And I'll get you all the drugs you want.'

The two men shook hands, and the blond man went back inside his whorehouse.

Starsky watched the black man walk past him. He waited until the man was out of sight of The Little Flower. Then, he pulled out one of his revolvers, and shot him in the back. The man jumped, and looked around. He felt at his back, and studied the drops of blood on his hands. After a few moments, he shrugged and continued on his way.

Go ahead, thought Starsky. I'll catch up to you later.

A few minutes later, Ursus showed up, with two men in tow. His black face was doleful.

'I'm sorry,' he said. 'These idiots were the best I could find.'

'Hey, who are you calling an idiot, Urs?' said one of the men. He looked Persian. The other man was as tall and dark as Ursus. Perhaps they were cousins?

The two men introduced themselves as Darius and Gerard. 'We were sure he was pulling a joke on us,' said Gerard. 'But I've seen you around once or twice, riding with the Prince. What's up?'

'We're raiding that whorehouse,' said Starsky, pointing across the street. 'For two reasons. First of all, they sell children there. Drugged children. And there's someone there I want to speak to. He mustn't get away. I want you to go in first, and make sure that no one at the front desk warns him. Then, my little pet and I will move in. Got that?'

'We hear you,' said Darius. The two Guardsmen started across the street, toward The Little Flower.

*********************

Hutch stared down at the two bodies on the cell floor. The unconscious woman. The dead man. Something slithered inside him. Something dangerous. Murderous. Something that whispered to him to let it loose.

I can kill them all for you, it said.

'There's someone else inside me,' Hutch said out loud.

'Yes,' said Gillian. 'The Other. The Hooded Spirit. You've never truly tamed it, but it's under your control.'

'It wants free,' said Hutch. 'I want to see it. Where is it?'

'I'm here,' said another voice.

Hutch turned. The dark, hooded spirit stood behind him.

'You,' said Hutch. 'You are what Arac wants back. His little pet spirit.'

'It's about time you turned to me,' said the spirit. 'You could have been free long ago, if you'd let me loose. Free, or maybe even in control. Why do you want to go back to him? Crawl back, is more like it. He's nothing.'

'And you're something?' Hutch asked. 'You've been dead for centuries. What do you have to offer me?'

'Power,' said the spirit. 'You could control all of Rome, if you let me do what I do best.'

For a moment, Hutch wondered why he was listening to the evil spirit. Why not just send it back into the depths of his own soul, where he kept it silent, and hidden, to protect the world from its powers. But no, sometimes such things had to be faced down, dealt with. Hutch didn't want to face this now, when he was still trapped inside Arac's stronghold. But there might still be battles ahead before he escaped. He needed all his resources at his command, including this one.

'You have no idea what power is,' he told the spirit. 'You know my Lord has power. You've seen it. You've bowed before it.'

'And I want to revenge myself on it,' the spirit said. 'Don't you? Do you really think he's coming for you? Or even that he misses you? He despises you, because you're weak. You were captured, and tortured... molested.'

'Arac didn't rape me,' said Hutch.

'But he touched you. Against your will. How do you think your owner will feel when he learns that? When he thinks about that man's hands on you?'

'It will make no difference,' said Hutch. 'My Lord loves me. He claimed me as his own.'

'Can you be sure?' the spirit whispered. 'What if he rejects you?'

'That's his right,' said Hutch.

'Look at what you've let yourself become,' the spirit sneered. 'A crawling worm.'

'I'm no one's crawling worm,' said Hutch. 'This conversation is at an end. Get back to your place.'

The hooded spirit wavered for a moment, and Hutch felt its malevolence, like a blast of poisonous air. But it gave way, and retreated back into its prison.

*******************

Starsky edged closer to the door of the brothel. He could hear Darius and Gerard now, arguing with the proprietors.

'A complaint has been lodged,' said Darius. 'Someone told us you sell little girls here. You're going to have to come with us.'

'We have no children here at all,' said a voice that Starsky remembered from earlier. 'We only provide adult women.'

'Then come and explain that to the Commission. I'm sure they'll take your word for it.'

'I don't know who would launch such a complaint. This is very strange, Officers.'

A dog started barking, perhaps because of the argument. Perhaps because it smelled Viggo.

'Shut up your dog,' Gerard ordered. 'Or I'll shut it up permanently.'

The dog yelped, once, and was silent. There had been no gunshot, so Starsky assumed it was alive, and dangerous. Viggo might still have a fight on his hands.

'What about our business?' asked another voice. 'We could come back and find all our money gone.'

'That's not our concern,' said Gerard. 'Come with us. Now!'

Starsky watched, as Darius and Gerard led two men from The Little Flower. The tall, blond man named Douglas, and a smaller, darker man. Not John Smith. They locked the door, and followed the guardsmen, still grumbling, and looking confused.

Starsky watched as the group turned the corner. He smiled.

'Now, Viggo,' he said.

One hard kick broke open the door. The noise roused the dog, which got to its feet and started barking. It was large, and strong, and a good fighter, but no match for Viggo. After a few passes, it retreated under the desk to lick its wounds.

One barrier down, thought Starsky. He opened the door to the rooms beyond. Viggo growled.

'Go find him, boy,' said Starsky. He pulled out one of his revolvers. The one that carried the new sleep darts.

A door opened down the hall. A tall man emerged, holding a gun. He aimed it at Viggo. Starsky shot him before he could pull the trigger. The sleep darts made a small popping noise, not as loud as the sound created by regular bullets. Perhaps John Smith was still unwarned.

Viggo turned a corner, and disappeared. Starsky hurried to catch up. He could hear the patter of the wolf's feet on the stone floor. He could hear the wolf snuffling at each door. Then, a soft woof. Starsky reached the corner, and looked down the new hallway. There was Viggo, sitting in front of one of the doors.

'Good wolf,' said Starsky.

Viggo grinned, and his eyes gleamed. Starsky kicked down another door. This was fun, he thought, as the second wooden barrier fell before him.

There was a bed in the room. A young man was in it, and he was not alone. He had a companion. A little girl, not much more than eight years old.

'John Smith?' said Starsky. 'You and I are about to become much better friends. You are invited to Villa Starsky for a nice long stay.'

'I'm not going anywhere,' said John Smith.

Starsky smiled. 'That's what you think,' he said.

**************************

'David, why don't you sit down. You'll wear a hole in the floor that way.'

'I don't want to sit down. I want to question that boy. Now! We need an antidote for that drug. He should have been awake long ago.'

'I'll put the army on it. I suppose they didn't think it would be necessary. They never foresaw such an impatient interrogator.'

'Can you blame me, Marc?'

'No. And I'm impatient too. But it can't be helped. Look, why don't you have a bath, and change your clothes while you wait.... Listen to me, David. You'll make a more impressive torturer, if you're in better shape. Right now, you look like what you are -- a desperate husband, who would do anything to find his lover.'

'You're right. I'm not thinking clearly, Marc. I'll go wash up.'

'Have something to eat, too. My Praetorians should be here soon. They're bringing some Mages who have knowledge of Mage Bane. That should help us. You need to keep up your strength, for Ken's sake.'

Starsky sighed, but he knew the prince was right. It was simply that everything here -- their bath, their bedroom, the smells from their kitchen -- everything reminded him of what was missing. Hutch's voice, and smile, and warm body. His own body ached for his lover, and his soft touch.

He was washed and changed, and eating something tasteless that he assumed was food because Ignatios had told him so, when one of the guards he had set on John Smith knocked at the study door.

'Master? You told me to let you know the instant....'

Starsky was out of his seat before the servant had finished speaking.

John Smith was groaning, and holding his head.

'It hurts,' he moaned.

'I can fix that,' said Starsky, softly.

'You! What did you do to me?'

'I ask the questions. You give me the answers. That's how this works.'

'Where am I? You kidnapped me? My family will be after you, for revenge.'

'Your father is in prison,' Starsky informed him. 'He's been charged with a crime against the State. Procuring, drugging, and selling little girls as prostitutes. Rape of a minor child, as well. As for you... I have this.'

Starsky showed John Smith his warrant, with the seal of the Imperial Executioner.

'You are mine,' he said. 'I can do anything to you I please. At the moment, I'm thinking of what would please me most. Sometimes I think one thing. Sometimes another. Perhaps I'll try them all.'

'Why? I didn't do anything....'

Starsky grabbed him by the throat. He stopped talking. Instantly.

'Don't. Don't try that. Don't try that innocent act with me. I know what you did, John Smith. What I want to know is why. And for whom. And where he is now. And what accommodations you would prefer to have made for you in the afterlife. The funeral rites and everything. I don't like your God. But everyone deserves their preferred form of funeral. You tell me what I want to know, and I'll see you get decently buried. Eventually. Perhaps not all at once. Perhaps not in the best of graveyards. But buried. Definitely buried. Are you listening to me?'

Starsky let go of John Smith's neck. The boy squeaked something.

'What was that?' asked Starsky.

'Please.'

'Please what?'

'Please don't kill me.'

'I might not,' said Starsky. 'I might let someone else kill you. There's a long line of people who want to kill you. Prince Marcus would like to kill you. My steward Ignatios would like to kill you. Then there's Viggo. Remember him? The wolf? I promised him he could eat you. Perhaps we'll draw straws. Or maybe we'll all take turns, killing you a bit at a....'

'All right. All right. I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Just stop this. It isn't funny.'

'You'll tell me whatever I want to know,' Starsky agreed. 'And I was never joking.'

************************

'Aren't you going to eat?' asked Gillian. Hutch paused in his washing long enough to glance at the tray of food, and shake his head.

'It might be drugged,' he said.

'Why?' asked Gillian. 'What would be the point? He had you chained to the wall.'

'To play with me. To make it look as if he was giving in. And then to turn on me.'

'Ah,' said Gillian. 'He's as clever as you.'

'Perhaps,' said Hutch. But he didn't sound convinced. He walked over to the two bodies, and pulled the woman's aside. Stripping her wasn't easy, unconscious bodies being notoriously difficult to handle, but he managed.

'Can you make me look like her?' he asked Gillian. 'She doesn't look too different from you.' 'I'll try,' said Gillian. 'But I can't promise. I've never done it before.'

'Just keep the picture of her face and colouring in your mind. The veil will help, but if she appears too different from the women here, someone might notice. I hope we can get out without anyone seeing us, but that would be amazing luck.'

Gillian gazed down at the body on the floor, trying to imprint the image in her mind. Hutch had said it could be done, in the Otherworld. He had witnessed it. If there, why not here? She looked up at the man. He was pale, bruised, bleeding, and determined.

'Come on,' he said. 'Take me over.'

Gillian entered his body, and mind, and soul. She felt her spirit body flow into his veins, into his bones. Everywhere. She looked down, and the body she inhabited looked so very like the one on the floor, that even she was amazed.

'Good work,' said Hutch, and picked up the woman's dress. 'Let's get moving. Before someone comes checking on us.'

**********************

Prince Marcus studied Starsky's grim face, as he entered the study.

'Well?' he asked.

'He says that Hutch was abducted on the orders of their God. Their God has recently manifested himself in human flesh. Well, somewhat human flesh. I suppose you could call Arac human?'

'Arac? You mean the Veneficus? The one that....'

'The evil witch that Hutch tore to pieces? Yes. Hutch wanted to gather up the pieces to be sure he was dead. But we weren't able to find them. It was my fault, Marc. My fault Arac came back to life. I should have listened to Hutch. Been more careful.'

'By all the Gods and Goddesses! What a pair you are. It's not your fault, David.'

'By Hades it isn't. Anyway, Arac has Hutch. But the boy says he doesn't know where.'

'Do you believe him?'

'I don't know. I can't budge him. And it's possible he's telling the truth. Arac might not have told him where he lives.'

'For this very reason.'

'Yes.'

'Is he still alive?'

'John Smith? Oh, yes. I'm keeping him alive, until I find Hutch. His fate will depend on Hutch's condition when I get him back. If Hutch is in reasonably good shape, I'll kill the boy quickly.'

'Good thinking,' said Marcus, with a smile. They heard the clatter of horses at the front of the villa, and Ignatios came to the study door.

'Sirs. It's the Praetorians, Sirs. And they have the Mages with them.'

'Thank you, Ignatios,' said Prince Marcus. 'Bring the Mages here. And have some refreshments sent in. They're probably thirsty after their long ride.'

Ignatios glanced at Starsky. It was really his master's place to give such orders in his own home. But lately, Starsky wasn't acting as if this was his home.

Starsky seemed to wake up long enough to nod at Ignatios.

'Thank you, Ignatios,' he said. 'That will be fine.' 'I'm sorry for ordering your slaves in your place, David,' said the Prince, when the servant had left.

'Don't worry about it, Dominus. I can't seem to put two thoughts together that don't have to do with finding Hutch. It's all that matters. Let's hope these Mages live up to all the expectations.'

**************

'Magus virus. Mage Bane. Yes. Very efficacious in some cases.'

'Efficacious! That weed poisoned my husband. I'm going to rip out every root, and every....'

'I understand your feelings, Mister Starsky. But the point is, that it can be used as a medication, in small doses. Like snake venom, or many other poisons.'

The northern mage attempted to stare Starsky down. He had hypnotic eyes, but Starsky wasn't impressed. These mages might well be good, and know what they were doing, but still, his own Barbarian Witch was worth all three of them put together.

'You see,' the mage continued. 'Sometimes mage powers become too... powerful. They take over your mind, and give you no rest. Magus virus can calm your mind. Let you sleep, instead of lying awake, tossing and turning.'

'I can see that,' said Starsky. 'I'll take three bottles. I haven't slept all week.'

'But the dose has to be carefully calibrated. Now, some mages are especially susceptible. But others are immune.'

'Immune?' asked Starsky. He had a horrible feeling he knew what the mage was going to say next, and wondered if he were becoming clairvoyant himself.

'Yes. Immune.'

'And this Arac is one of those lucky mages?'

'That's right. He used his immunity to attack other mages, poisoning them until they were useless shells. No one knew what was happening. Then someone noticed that Arac always seemed to be around, when mages went into allergic shock. And he was unaffected.'

'And you let him live?' asked Starsky in astonishment.

'We tried to take him down, but our own ranks were depleted, and he had become too powerful. We banished him from our conventions. It was all we could do. He seemed to disappear.'

'And you thought the problem was solved?'

'No, Mister Starsky,' said one of the other mages, a woman, who had identified herself as Melissa. She was tall, and blonde, and icy. But her eyes seemed to see far into the distance.

'We knew Arac was still a problem. We've been trying to build up our strength. You don't take on an enemy, when a battle would expose your weaknesses. And until recently, Arac wasn't trying to provoke a fight himself.'

'That's true,' said Starsky. 'But now, he has declared war. And on someone ignorant of the threat he poses. What can you do to help? Can you find my husband for me? Can you help to fight Arac?'

'We'll try,' said Melissa. 'We do know where his stronghold is.'

'Take me there,' said Starsky. 'Now.'

'Now?' said one of the mages. Hannibal. That was his name. Hannibal. A good Roman name.

'You want to leave now?'

'That's what I said,' Starsky pointed out. 'Are you deaf as well as stupid.'

'I beg your pardon?' said Hannibal.

'Granted,' said Starsky. 'Now get off your lazy asses and back on your equally lazy horses. You've been taking too many doses of Mage Bane, I think. It's about time you started acting like real mages again. My husband suffers pain every day and every night of his life, because he's a mage. He doesn't take a pill to help him sleep. Now, he's been captured by one of your mages. You let Arac go. You fix your mistake.'

'We don't take orders from you,' said Hannibal.

'O yes, you do. I still have this.' Starsky pulled out his now tattered warrant, and waved it under their noses. 'This gives me the right to kill anyone who helped to abduct my husband. Or anyone who gets in my way, while I'm looking for my husband. I see you as guilty on both counts.... Ignatios!'

'Yes, Master?'

'We're going to get Hutch back.'

'Of course, Master.'

Starsky was storming down the hall toward the bedroom.

'Pack something comfortable for him to wear on the way home. He might be... bruised or scratched. And he might be tired. If we stop at an inn for a night, he'll need something loose to wear in our room. And Ignatios? Could you come with us?'

'Of course, Master.' Ignatios sounded astonished. 'You don't have to ask.'

'It's going to be a hard ride. I don't know what we'll find when we get there. It could be dangerous.'

'I'll pack a lot of weapons, Master.'

'Good,' said Starsky.

On the bedside table, something gleamed, as golden as Hutch's hair. It was the arrow which had fallen from the hand of Eros.

'Get me a bow from the arsenal,' said Starsky. 'And choose whoever you want to leave in charge here. Tell them to have the villa all ready for his return. The way he likes it.'

'Of course, Master.'

Ignatios chose some of Hutch's more comfortable clothes, and tossed them into a small bag. Then, he went to the armoury for the bow his master ordered. He grabbed several revolvers, which he stuck in his belt.

'I'm ready, Master,' he announced.

******************

They were thundering north, toward Ravenna. Starsky was riding between Marcus, and Ignatios. The others were struggling to keep up. 'We can't waste another minute, Marcus,' he had protested. 'Hutch may not have another minute. Arac has had him there for almost a week.'

'We'll use the waystations of the Praetorian Guard. Change horses frequently. That way we won't have to stop for more than a few minutes.' Starsky hadn't wanted to take even that much time, but he realized that horses couldn't run at top speed forever. Viggo seemed capable of that, however. He ran beside Starsky's horse, his tongue lolling out in the spring breeze. Every once in a while, he threw back his head, and howled, as if to let Hutch know they were coming.

*********************************

'Hey. You! Where the fuck do you think you're going?'

Hutch ignored the guard, and kept on walking. She turned a corner. It was the last one before the door outside, she remembered from Gillian's explorations.

'You! Cunt. You stop and answer me when I talk to you. I asked you where you were going.'

'Outside,' said Hutch. 'To dump this dirty water.'

The guard laughed. 'You know better than that. Women don't go outside, here. You stay indoors, where you belong.'

The man grabbed her arm, and started to drag her back. Hutch let him pull her, and added her own momentum. She slammed her elbow into his gut, and scraped her foot down his shin, then stomped on his toes. He yelled, and dropped her arm. She whirled around, and stabbed her fingers into his throat.

'No one tells me what to do,' she said. 'Except for one man, and he's not here. And no man talks to me like that and gets away with it. Not even when I was a whore.'

The man sank to his knees, gasping for air. Hutch slammed her elbow down on his neck, and the man fell flat on his face, and didn't move.

He was far too large and heavy for Hutch to shift to a hiding place in her current body, she thought in despair. 'Now we're really going to have to move fast,' she said to herself. 'That's three bodies we've left lying around. Someone's going to get suspicious.'

************************

The horses were tiring, and there were no more waystations before they reached Arac's stronghold. At least the mountains they were riding through were the Apenines, and not the Alps, thought Starsky. In the Alps, they'd need goats, not horses.

Starsky glanced back at the mages. They were looking exhausted, that was true. Served them right, the lazy buggers.

Marcus laughed. 'They already had a long ride, remember? You scarcely gave them a chance to catch their breaths.'

'Yes. Well, I spent last night in a stinking alley, crawling with rats. In fact, I ate one for dinner.'

Viggo had good ears. He snorted, and tossed Starsky a disgusted look over his shoulder, before letting out another howl.

They had been riding through a lightly forested area, quite high in elevation. The path wasn't very steep, but the air was getting thin.

Suddenly, the trees gave way to thin scrub, and they could see far ahead. There it was, a large stone building, almost a castle.

Arac didn't have too high an opinion of himself, did he, Starsky thought. Viggo howled again, then picked up the pace. The horses couldn't keep up.

Far up the slope, Starsky could see a slight, dark figure running towards them. Someone was chasing her... or him. Viggo howled once more, as he ran up the hill toward the fleeing woman.

Or was it a man?

'Hutch!' Starsky cried. He kicked his flagging horse into a desperate gallop. 'Hutch!'

The tall dark man -- Arac -- was almost upon Hutch. Viggo was brave, but could never fight the Veneficus.

Starsky reined in his horse, and reached down for his bow. Out of his quiver he chose the arrow, the golden arrow which had fallen from the hand of Eros. He fitted it into his bow, and aimed.

Hutch kept running, seemingly oblivious to what was happening around him, the presence of friend or foe alike.

Arac had noticed the arrival of Starsky, and his party of warriors, however. He watched as Starsky aimed the golden arrow of the God. Hutch was almost at the end of her strength. Her pace was faltering. Viggo was howling as he ran, straight up the slope toward her. Starsky kicked his horse into action again. It was hard for him to aim and fire from horseback, but Arac was still out of range.

Arac stopped. He stared down the hill. He stared at Starsky, and his golden arrow. Then, he turned and fled.

Hutch fell to the ground, and lay still.

Starsky had just enough presence of mind to put his bow and arrow away, rather than drop them to be trampled under the horses' hooves. Any weapon that could terrify Arac into flight, was worth holding onto. He dismounted at Hutch's side, and fell to his knees beside his lover.

Viggo was licked Hutch's face, and whined. Hutch didn't respond. Starsky gathered the unconscious body into his arms.

'Ignatios! Marcus! Help me!' he cried.

The others had caught up with him by now. Marcus and Ignatios dismounted, and ran to Starsky's side. The Praetorians reined in their horses, uncertain about what to do now. Marcus noticed their confusion. 'Go!' he ordered. 'Take the stronghold. Take the mages with you. See if they can capture Arac.'

The Captain of the Praetorians led his troops on up the hill. The mages went with them, except for Melissa.

'I am not a warrior, Dominus. I'm a healer. I'd do better here.'

'Granted,' said Marcus.

Melissa touched Starsky's arm. 'This is your husband?' she asked. 'Is he under a spell?'

'No,' said Starsky, staring down into his lover's face. 'He's a shape-changer. He changed into a woman, to make it easier to escape.'

'Ah. When will he change back?'

'I don't know. Why does it matter?'

'Only that shape-changing can hide injuries, or trauma. It makes it difficult to treat....'

'Treat him? You think you're going to treat my husband's injuries? With what? Mage Bane?'

'Mister Starsky. I understand....'

'No,' said Starsky. 'You don't understand at all. I don't want any of you near him.'

'You might not have a choice,' said Melissa. 'Whatever faults we may have as mages, we do know something about Mage Bane. Your husband has been affected by it, and we have treatments.'

Starsky sighed. He looked at Hutch, still in female form. Her skin was pale, and bruised. Her mouth was torn from blows. Many blows. Her hands were badly burned. Starsky thought about hidden injuries, and shuddered.

'You can treat him,' he said at last. 'Only you, and only if I'm there. I don't trust any other mages right now. Ignatios?'

'Master?'

'Let's set up a little camp. See if you can find a sheltered spot. I'm not carrying him up to the stronghold. I'm sure he's seen enough of that. And the nearest town is too far back.'

Starsky could hear the sounds of battle, up in the stronghold. The Praetorian Guard was fighting Arac's troops. More power to them, thought Starsky. He'd love to kill Arac's men, and he hoped the Praetorians would save him a few. But right now, his place was here.

************************

Arac's stronghold had fallen, and was under the control of the Praetorian Guard. Actually, by law, it belonged to Starsky now, to do with as he willed.

Arac's men were dead. Or taken captive, which amounted to the same thing. They'd be dead when Starsky could spare them the attention. He hoped they enjoyed their last few days on earth.

Arac had escaped. That was more serious. He was free, and in somewhat better shape than Hutch had left him the last time they fought. It was Hutch who was in bad shape this time around.

Ignatios had made up a nice little camp, with help from Marcus, and Melissa, and some of the Praetorians when they had the leisure. Starsky had heated water, and given Hutch a wash. He'd dressed her in the loose robe that Ignatios had packed. Then he had let Melissa near.

'What's wrong with him? With her?' Starsky asked. 'She was running down the hill, faster than Arac could run. And then, she just collapsed.'

'I think she was using every last vestige of her power to escape. To get to you, perhaps. She may have felt your presence, if you're as close as you say.'

'We are,' said Starsky, coldly.

'That's good,' said Melissa. 'Perhaps it means that she now feels safe. Safe enough to sleep, and heal.'

'Why hasn't she changed back into male form?' Starsky asked. 'Not that it matters, one way or another. I love her, or him, equally, and I always have. I'm just curious. Do you think it's an effect of that stupid weed?'

'I don't know a lot about shape-changing,' said Melissa. 'I've heard of it. We studied some of the effects in Mage School. But it's not usual among mages. Mostly it's the Shamans who do this.'

'Yes,' said Starsky. 'Hutch is a Seidhrman.'

'A Saydthman?' asked Melissa. 'What's that?'

'Hutch is from Norway. That's what they call their Shaman. The male Shaman, I mean. Seidhr is the name of their form of magic. Saydth. It's mostly the women who practice it. Hutch says that men who practice Seidhr are despised, because they shape-change into women.'

'That would be hard on a person's soul. To be despised because of what you are.'

'Yes,' said Starsky. 'My Hutch has suffered all his life because of what he is. I promised to protect him from that. But I couldn't. He was captured. And hurt. And now, he won't wake up.'

Melissa touched his arm. 'He will awaken,' she said. 'When he has slept for a time in your arms, and feels safe. Why don't you lie down with him. Hold him close to you. I'll cover you both with blankets. Sleep. Dream about loving him with your body, and your heart, and your soul. Dream that you're at home, and at peace. And he will enter your dreams, and know that he is with you, and loved. Then he will know it is safe to wake up, and return to his true shape.'

Starsky let Melissa's voice wash over him. She really was a healer, he thought. Perhaps he had been wrong about the northern mages, and they weren't all evil and dangerous. He lay down, and gathered Hutch to him. He felt the warm blanket cover them both. And then darkness fell upon him, and he slept.

************************

For a long time, Starsky floated in the darkness, knowing only that his heart and soul had returned to his body, and he was whole again. All the anger, all the fear -- no, the terror -- had drained out of him. Hutch was back in his arms.

Then, far off in the distance, he heard music. The deep, rhythmic pounding of a drum, at first. The sweet, piercing notes of a flute came next. The drum and the flute. Together. So different. But they created a beautiful dance. He followed, and they led him out of the darkness. The darkness parted and the light appeared. Light out of darkness. Both were necessary, he knew. What was one, without the other? How could you know what joy was, unless you had known sorrow? How could you know pleasure, unless you knew pain?

How could you know love, unless you knew hate, and fear?

'My Lord!' said a soft, loving voice. It drew out the words, made them into a song. He felt a hand touch his, one that he would know now, in any darkness, and whatever its shape was. At the moment, it was small and feminine, and strong. Still Hutch's hand.

'My Lord,' said Hutch again. 'I have found you. You've come to me. Do you still love me?'

'Love you?' Starsky fell to his knees before the one he loved. 'I will love you, until the darkness overcomes the light. How could I not love you?'

'I thought you would be disgusted with me now. He touched me, my Lord.'

'Touched you?' Starsky asked. 'He raped you?'

'No. Not really. He couldn't. He couldn't actually get it hard, and fuck me. But he touched me. He wanted to make sex magic, as well as blood magic. To get all his powers back. I resisted. It didn't work.'

'And you thought that would change how I feel about you?' Starsky pulled Hutch closer. Her slender body trembled in his arms.

'He told me it would. The Hooded Spirit, Gillian calls him. He almost broke loose, and he told me you would reject me. I knew you wouldn't, but still....'

Starsky bent and kissed her lips. They kissed for a long time, in the middle of nowhere, between the darkness and the light.

'Where are we?' Starsky asked, when they stopped for breath.

'We are somewhere between the Worlds,' said Hutch. 'Somewhere along the branches of the World Tree. At the beginning of Time. Or perhaps in the Courts of the God of Love.'

'Eros?'

'Yes. He loaned you his power, and that is why Arac fled before you. You became an avatar of the God of Love, and if you had pierced Arac with that arrow, he would have crumbled away to nothing.'

'You are the avatar of Eros. I told you that before.'

'No,' said Hutch. 'You are Eros, to me.'

She led him on, into the light. The sun shone on a beautiful meadow. Rose trees arched over their heads, forming a scented bower.

'Come,' said Hutch. 'Lie with me. Join our bodies, so I know you still love me.'

Rose petals fell all around them, making a soft carpet on the grass. They took off their clothes, and lay down. Hutch pulled Starsky to her. He rose over her, his cock swelling with love, and desire. He entered her, again and again, filling her with his seed. He felt her shudder under him, felt her womb open, and heard her cry out in joy.

The darkness returned, and he slept.

It was very late when Starsky woke up. Everyone was asleep, settled on the ground around them. Except for the guards on watch, he amended, as he heard one of them shift, and adjust his grip on his weapon.

What had woken him, he wondered? Then, he heard it again. The cough of a hunting lion. Viggo was sitting up, staring off into the dark. He threw back his head, and howled. The lion coughed again. The sound was further away this time. Viggo sighed, and relaxed.

Starsky nestled closer to his lover. Hutch's body was still soft, and rounded, and female. It was sweet, but it troubled him. Hutch's nature was divided. Male and female. He had achieved a sort of balance, and his powerful male persona gave him protection against anyone who might see his female side as a weakness, and try to attack him.

Had the balance tipped toward that female side?

Starsky knew that women were not weak and helpless. Far from it. His own mother was a powerful Roman matron, and a good business woman. Hutch in female form was a force to be reckoned with. But having a female body did leave you more vulnerable to physical attack. And at the moment, Hutch was small, much smaller than Starsky. Short, and dark, with slender arms, and delicate hands.

Starsky's protective instincts filled every fibre of his being. If anyone had thought he was dangerously over-protective of Hutch before, they were in for a rude shock now, he thought. Hutch's eyes opened, and she gazed up at him. Starsky leaned on his elbow, and studied her face. It had changed a little, since he first saw it a few hours ago. Then, it had been the face of a stranger. Now, it seemed to be a blending of that face, the face of his Aunt Gillian, and his own Hutch's features. Somehow, the blending achieved harmony.

'My Lord?' Hutch asked, in a husky whisper.

'I think you're beautiful,' Starsky answered. 'How are you feeling?'

'Tired,' said Hutch. 'So tired. But happy. Are you happy?'

'Yes. You're alive, and safe, and I have you in my arms. So I'm happy.' He kissed her ear, and blew into it. 'Why are you happy?' he asked.

Hutch sighed. 'You were inside me, my Lord. You still love me.'

'You don't have to keep calling me your lord, you know. I have another name.'

'Aren't you still my Lord?' Hutch sounded frightened. Her body tensed in his arms.

'Of course,' said Starsky. 'If you like. Whatever you like.'

He stroked her breasts, teasing the nipples into peaks. Then, he let his hands trail down her body. She sighed, and opened her thighs to let him explore between them.

'Sweet,' he whispered in her ear. He burrowed under the blanket, and began to kiss her body. First her breasts, then her belly, her navel, her thighs, between her thighs, the sweet little nub of her clitoris. She gasped, and moaned a little, and writhed under his licking tongue. He held her hips tightly, and she grew still. He took her clitoris gently between his lips, and sucked. She stayed still, and very quiet, but her body shuddered and shivered, and broke out in a fine sweat. Wave after wave of shivers, over and over, until he felt her vulva contract under his mouth. She gasped, and then lay still.

Starsky could feel the waves of pleasure that flowed over his lover's body. He pushed her thighs further apart, and pressed his cock into her moist vagina, very gently. She wrapped her thighs around his waist. He took her arms, and held them high above her head. She looked up at him, past speech, and let her body speak for her.

'Own me,' her body said.

******************

Marcus woke them, late in the morning, with cups of hot tea.

'No one else would volunteer to come near you,' he explained with a fierce grin. 'They were all too scared. And it seemed cruel to order them on such a perilous mission.'

Hutch took one look at her tea, and groaned. 'By all the Gods, I have to piss,' she said, delicately.

Starsky laughed. 'Let me help you,' he offered.

'As much as you may want to help, I think I have to do that by myself,' Hutch pointed out.

'I mean I'll help you to the bushes,' said Starsky. 'You're all bruised, and your hands are burned.'

'I'm healing,' she answered.

'Then why are you still in this form?' Starsky asked. 'Shouldn't you be back in your usual shape?'

'I don't know,' Hutch admitted. 'I don't quite remember what that was.'

'You were tall,' said Starsky, as he led her to the bushes. 'And blond. And -- oh yes, before I forget -- you were a man.'

'If you say so,' said Hutch. 'At the moment, I'm feeling so female, I can't believe I was ever anything else.'

Starsky led her to a little stream afterwards, to wash up. Her bruises did look a bit faded, he noticed. But she was so pale and thin. Or maybe that was just because the woman whose appearance she had borrowed had been starved and abused?

They walked back to the campsite, Hutch leaning on Starsky's arm.

'I sent for the limousine to meet us at Ravenna,' said Prince Marcus. 'It can't drive this far into the mountains, but you couldn't possible ride horseback the entire way home.'

Hutch sighed. 'I wish you'd all stop looking at me like I'd blow away in a stiff breeze,' she said.

'Humour us,' said Starsky. 'And you do look pretty frail at the moment. I'm sure that will change, and then you can punish us all. Run me off my feet at the gymnasium, or something.'

Melissa spoke up. 'I don't think she'll be doing that any time soon.'

'And why not?' asked Hutch.

'I've been reading your aura,' said Melissa. 'There's something strange, and different about it. Your husband says you're a shape-shifter, and you took female form to escape?'

'That's true,' said Hutch.

'But I see the auras of several people. Some of them appear to be the auras of spirits.'

'I have two spirits bound to me, that I'm aware of,' said Hutch.

'Two spirits, yes,' said Melissa. 'But two living persons, as well. One is powerful, both male and female combined. I believe that is yours.'

'That sounds about right,' Starsky spoke up. 'But I don't know what you mean about the aura of another person. Hutch has two spirits bound to her. At least, she did before she was abducted.'

'The other aura is faint, but growing,' said Melissa. 'Like that of a baby in its mother's womb. If you were a woman, I'd say that you were with child. But you're a man, who took female form temporarily. How can that be?'

Hutch grasped Starsky's arm. Hard. 'Help me sit down,' she ordered.

Starsky obeyed.

'What Starsky told you isn't precisely accurate,' said Hutch. 'I don't simply take female shape. I become a woman. But I never thought I could be with child. I've never stayed a woman for long. Only a few hours at a time.'

'My dear,' said Melissa. 'That's all the time it takes.'

All the time it takes, thought Starsky. With child. What does that mean? Does that mean with... child? As in... baby?

Starsky dared to look at Hutch. She was sitting there, on her pile of blankets, looking calm, and collected, and not at all as Starsky thought a man should look when he discovered he was... with child.

'Hutch?' Starsky managed to ask.

Hutch turned, and fixed him with bright, fierce eyes. 'Yes?' she asked.

'Do you mean... does this mean...'

Hutch gave him that pitying look that women reserve for their men when they're being especially slow on the uptake.

'This means I'm having a baby. Your baby,' she explained.

'It must have happened last night. When we made love,' she added. Just in case Starsky hadn't figured that part out yet.

'I suppose that's why I haven't changed back into a man, yet,' Hutch continued. 'My body seems to have accepted its charge.'

'Thank you,' said Starsky. He managed to get to his feet without falling over. I've fought in dozens of duels, he told himself, and cut out men's hearts to feed them to my love. I can't shame myself and him... her... by fainting now.

'Ignatios?'

'Yes, Master?'

You're lucky I decided to free you, before I caught that look in your eyes, thought Starsky. Otherwise, you'd be a slave to your dying day. 'We need to send messages home. Have the villa prepared for my husband's return. We'll be taking our time, but we'll get there eventually.'

Starsky turned back to Hutch. 'You'll need some proper clothes. Women's clothes. That robe is far too large for you.'

'We can get something in Ravenna,' said Marcus. He was looking as shocked as Starsky imagined himself to look. 'You should wear red, Ken. Right away. Don't take any chances.'

'Are you all finished?' Hutch asked. 'Organizing my life?'

Starsky came to kneel at her feet. 'No,' he said. 'I haven't even begun to organize. But you can have anything you want, go anywhere you want, do anything you want. I'm just here to protect you. Not order you around.'

Marcus spoke up again. 'I'll have the Imperial Standard carried before the limousine. Bordered in red.'

'That's not necessary,' said Hutch.

'It is. You're my foster brother. Foster sister now, I should say. Any child of yours is my niece, or nephew. Anyone who troubles you, will deal with me. Well, whatever is left of them after David is finished with them.'

'Don't worry,' said Starsky. 'That won't be much.'

*******************

'Is your headache any better?'

'Oh yes, Starsky. Much better. And much bigger. I think it's winning the fight, and I'm losing.'

Hutch lifted her head off Starsky's lap, and looked around the limo, for a victim to take out her frustrations on. Marcus grinned at her.

'I don't know why we're riding in this Gods-forsaken car.' Hutch announced. 'If we were on horseback, at least I'd have some fresh air.'

'I could open a window,' Marcus suggested.

'You do that,' said Hutch. 'And stick your ass out to moon everyone as we go by.'

Marcus roared with laughter. Hutch put her head back down, and closed her eyes, looking satisfied.

Starsky couldn't blame her for not being in the best of moods right now. It wasn't that she wasn't happy about the baby. She was thrilled. Starsky was thrilled. Marcus was thrilled. Ignatios seemed to be thrilled. For all Starsky could tell, Viggo was thrilled.

But it had to be said -- the baby had not been planned. Hutch hadn't even known such a thing could be possible. Then, there was her female body. Though she was androgynous in her soul, on this branch of the World Tree, her body was male. As she told Melissa, she spent a few hours as a female, at the very most.

Now, she had to stay in female form for nine months.

Starsky knew that one of Hutch's secret fears was that she couldn't do it, that her body would revert to male form, and kill the baby. Not intentionally, but purely out of reflex.

They had reached the outskirts of Rome. The trip home had taken them a week. Both Starsky and Marcus had insisted on the slow pace, the long rest stops. Hutch had just wanted to get home.

But the rest had done her good. They had gone to Ravenna first. The limo had met them there, and Marcus had taken them to his own private villa. He sent messengers to the best women's clothing stores, and bought his foster sister an entire wardrobe.

Hutch had fumed. Marcus had laughed, which made Hutch fume more. The strategy had worked. Hutch had forgotten her fears for a while, and she started to look less like a waif, and more like herself. A goddess.

Then she tried on one of the red gowns.

She was wearing it now. Rich red silk, embroidered with flowers. She was wearing a necklace of rubies and emeralds that Starsky had bought her, and bracelets and earrings that were gifts from Marcus.

The limo stopped, suddenly, jolting the passengers.

'William? What was that?' Marcus asked his driver.

'Someone ran in front of the car, Sir.'

'Are they mad?' asked Marcus. 'Don't they see the Imperial Standard? Don't they know what it means?'

'It's possible they don't, Sir. There seems to be some kind of disturbance. A demonstration.'

They could hear shouting, now. Something about freedom, and rights, and sin. Hutch sat up. Her eyes looked bright. Her headache seemed to be gone, or in remission. She pulled back one of the window curtains, and looked out. The limo was crawling forward now.

'Can't we turn back, William? Take another route?' Marcus asked.

'Not possible, Sir. There are people behind us now. We're surrounded.'

'What's going on up there?' asked Hutch.

'I'm not sure, Sir... Sorry... Madam.'

'Sir will be fine, William,' said Hutch. 'I'm no Madam.'

'No, Sir,' said William. 'I didn't mean to suggest you were. I can see someone now. He's standing on a box, and shouting at the crowd.'

'Wonderful,' said Hutch. 'Stop the car.'

'Sir?'

'Stop the car,' said Hutch. 'You know how to do that, I hope.'

'Stop the car, William,' said Marcus, in a long-suffering-male tone of voice.

Hutch turned to glare at him. 'Why should you sound like that, Marcus?' she asked. 'You don't have to live with me.'

She opened the limo door, and climbed out. 'Hutch!' Starsky cried, and made a wild grab for her arm, but then remembered, and restrained himself. No one had the right to restrain her, or get in her way. Starsky climbed out of the limo after her. Marcus was right behind.

The crowd was thick here. Many seemed to be mere spectators, swarming around the square, enjoying the show, wondering what it was all about. There was a core of demonstrators, however. One of them was indeed standing on a box, haranguing the crowd. Hutch started toward him. Starsky and Marcus followed. Marcus signalled to his mounted Praetorians to stay behind, but to keep a close watch on the proceedings.

'My brother is in prison, in the Imperial Palace, and for what? For what, I ask you? For following his religion. Where is the crime in that? And my nephew? He's been taken prisoner by the Starsky family. They're thick as thieves with the Emperor's son. And the Prince? He lies with whores. Where is our nation headed?

'You know whose fault all this is, don't you? It's their fault. The perverts. They can't control their filthy urges. In some countries, their male organs would be cut off, or maybe their heads. Or they'd be burned at the stake. We don't do that, here in Rome. We let them live their sinful lives, and it's destroying us, root and branch.

'Why, they even marry each other. Sinful men, marrying each other, and living in their sin, day after day, night after night.'

The crowd was laughing, as if they thought this was a play. A comedy. A dark comedy, thought Starsky. A comedy that could turn, and bite you, like a scorpion.

'Men, marrying men?' the speaker continued. 'Where is the sense in that. Why don't I marry my dog, or my horse?'

'Why don't you?' Hutch spoke up, in a surprisingly powerful voice, for such a small woman. 'Your mother married an ass!'

The crowd roared with laughter. The man on the box turned to see who had dared to insult him. His eyes widened as he took in the sight before him.

The limousine, flying the Imperial Standard. The band of Praetorians, one of them carrying the Standard, bordered in red.

Prince Marcus, and David Starsky, armed to the teeth, and not looking very happy.

Hutch at the front, clearly the leader of the little band of insurgents. Small, but defiant. Adorned with jewels. Dressed in red.

The man's face grew almost as red as Hutch's gown.

'What is this?' he demanded. 'Are you here to arrest me? I'm only speaking my mind. I have that right.'

'You've exercised that right,' Hutch told him. 'But now, you're in my way. I want to go home. And I have that right. My rights outweigh yours, at the moment, in case you hadn't noticed. I declare that your rights are now as follows: you can shut up, and get out of my way. Or you can die, at the end of my Lord's dagger. Which do you choose?'

There was a murmur of approval. Then someone shouted. 'She's right. Everyone out of the way. Let her through.'

People started to leave the square. Hutch was still facing off with the speaker, and his small band of supporters.

'I know you,' one of them said to Starsky. 'You took one of our people captive. Where is he?'

'He's in the Villa Starsky. Awaiting execution for abducting my husband,' said Starsky. 'If you don't want to join him there, I suggest you leave now.'

'Tyrants!' one of the men shouted. 'Perverts!' But the crowd had dispersed, and no one was willing to stand up to the Praetorians, or Starsky's own guards. The Cult left the field to Hutch and her little army.

****************************

'Who are these people?' Starsky asked for the twentieth time. Or perhaps it was the fiftieth. No one remembered. Everyone just let him rant, knowing that he needed the release after the last fortnight.

'Or maybe I should ask who they think they are? They drug and rape little girls, and they call my husband and me perverts. They kill people for their God. They abduct my husband, and then they call Prince Marcus and me tyrants. Nothing they say or do makes sense. What are they up to?'

'I know one thing, my Lord,' Hutch answered him. 'I know they want power, for themselves and for their God.'

'But why all these senseless accusations?' Marcus asked. 'What was all that nonsense about countries where they geld you, or kill you for lying with another man? Who would stand by and let their friends be treated that way? Or allow themselves to be treated that way?'

'Women were treated like that in the past, Dominus,' Sweet Angel pointed out.

'You are right, Domina. We tend to forget the past. But women had no political power then. That must mean that the men of these countries have no political power. I should look into that. What is this cult doing, suggesting that the people of Rome should live like that? Who would listen to them?'

'The senselessness of their words is the very point, Marc,' Hutch pointed out. 'Remember that speech? How confusing it was? If it had gone on much longer, people would have started to get angry, but not everyone would have realized why. Then, all it would have needed, was for one of the cult to start throwing stones, and you would have a riot on your hands. Afterwards, the association would have stayed. Tyranny. Perverts. Riot.'

'My men here in Rome tell me that they've been making these little speeches every day I've been gone,' Marcus informed them. 'Apparently, I'm a tyrant for arresting child molesters, and religious fanatics who perform human sacrifice. I'm only doing my duty. It's my job to arrest these people.'

'And it's my right, and my duty to arrest the people who threaten my home and my family,' said Starsky. 'The people who hurt my husband -- my wife. My pregnant wife.' He looked at Hutch, and his eyes darkened with rage.

'What am I supposed to do now?' he continued. 'Let this John Smith go? So he can go back to plotting against my family? So he can go back to raping little girls? Is that justice?'

'Certainly not,' said Marcus. 'And you are within your rights. But it seems as if the cult is using all this to drive a wedge into our entire system of justice. Perhaps they planned it that way from the start. Create confusion. Create dissent. If we go on as we have, we're tyrants. But, if we give in, if we give up our rights to uphold the law, then we lose those rights. We've created a precedent. The next man who harms your family, will protest that you haven't the right to take your revenge.'

'Well, then what? Does he get away with it? What sense does that make? Should there be no law at all? Anarchy? Anyone can harm me, my husband, and my family? I wouldn't allow it, Marcus. I wouldn't let any man get away with harming anyone in this house. Not Ignatios. Not any of my slaves, even the ones I bought last week. They're mine. They're entitled to my protection. Who is going to protect them if I don't?'

'My men tell me that this cult is saying they should be tried in a civil court.'

'What? A civil court? Child rape? Abduction? Attempted murder? Treated as if it were no more serious than an argument over a broken business contract?'

'That's what they want,' said Marcus. 'I have no idea why.'

'I do,' said Sweet Angel. 'In a civil case, both sides have the right to speak. To present their side of the story, without hindrance.'

'Ah.' Marcus leaned forward. His eyes lit up. 'That makes sense now. They want a big public forum. They want their lies given official recognition. They'd lose the trial, but win the war in the end. Or so they think. The names of the men who were tried and convicted would be held up as martyrs to the cause.'

'And if we don't give them such a trial, they're still martyrs,' said Starsky, in despair. 'I told you these people were dangerous, Marcus.'

'Well, you were right,' said the Prince. 'Now what do I do?'

'Why not give them a trial?' said Sweet Angel. 'But not a civil trial. A trial in the Senate.'

The room fell silent for a long moment. Then, Prince Marcus turned to his love. He took her hand, and kissed it.

'You, Domina, are fit to be the Empress. And I will die before I will give another woman my name, and that title.'

Prince Marcus and Sweet Angel gazed into each other's eyes for a moment.

'Dominus,' said Sweet Angel. 'Don't. You know that could never happen.'

'I wouldn't be so sure,' said Marcus. 'Look at Hutch. I'm sure he thought that could never happen.'

'He's right,' said Hutch. 'Don't give up hope. But I'm feeling at a loss here. I'm no expert on Roman Law. Our system of law in Norway is quite different.'

'The Thing,' said Starsky, with a smile.

'Yes. The Thing. How would holding a trial in the Senate help us?'

'And I don't know if I like the idea all that much more, Sweet Angel,' said Starsky. 'I'd still be giving up my rights.'

'No. If this is indeed a plot to disrupt our system of justice, who better than the Senate to handle the case?' Sweet Angel pointed out.

'Then you want to charge them with a more serious crime than abducting me?' asked Hutch.

'There is no more serious crime,' said Starsky. 'Well, only one. But they didn't get that far.'

'We could charge them with conspiracy to disrupt the state,' said Marcus. 'Lay the whole mess before the Senate, and let them untangle it.'

'Or just bring in the separate charges. Let people make their own connections,' said Sweet Angel. 'And none of the accused can simply get up and make speeches. They can only answer questions. Questions that you ask. That your lawyers ask.'

'Yes,' said Hutch. 'That sounds good. We give them the chance for a trial, but they don't get to use the trial as a platform for their own views. Starsky?'

It was the first time since his disappearance that Hutch had called him by name. Starsky smiled. Every day, Hutch grew a little stronger, a little more like himself. Herself. Every day, another memory returned.

'Is this what you want, Hutch? Marcus? Whatever you think is right, I will go along with you. I never wanted revenge for my own pleasure, though it would be a pleasure, I assure you. I don't want anyone to get the idea that attacking my family will go unpunished. But if you think this is the best thing for Rome, I'll follow your lead.'

Hutch and Marcus exchanged a long look.

'I know that it will be difficult to give up your own rights in this, David. I'm asking a lot of you. But it isn't anything I'm not asking of myself.'

'You don't even have to ask, Dominus. Fiat. I will give up my right to execute that boy, and bring the case before the Senate.'

Ignatios came to the door. 'Masters,' he said. 'The household is ready for the evening prayers.'

'Thank you, Ignatios,' said Starsky. He looked at Marcus and Sweet Angel. 'Would you like to stay, and pray with us?' he asked.

**********************

Hutch spread olive oil on the gateposts, and Starsky hoped that the household Lares would be well. They moved indoors again, and prayed to the Penates and Vesta, the Goddess of the Hearth.

As always, these simple rites calmed Hutch. It was the Pax Deorum, thought Starsky. When you invited the Gods into your home, they brought peace.

Unless, he supposed, you worshipped a God who was filled with hate.

Hutch poured out wine before the altar. Starsky prayed that Vesta would bless their home, and their child.

Hutch tossed her torch into the crowd of servants, and one of them caught it. All the servants laughed and cheered, for who could give more luck to their family than a woman, dressed in red?

'Now,' said Starsky. 'We have another little announcement. As you all know, my husband was abducted, but I have brought him home. He is my wife now, for a time at least, and we are having a child. This is the most wonderful event, and we wanted to do something wonderful to celebrate it. Ignatios has been a rock through all the turmoil of the last few weeks. The Starsky family has always freed its slaves, sooner or later. For specially good service, we free them sooner.'

Starsky watched, as Ignatios grew pale. The man looked as if he were about to faint.

'Master?' he said.

'I sincerely hope that is the last time I hear that word from you, Ignatios. Prince Marcus. Sweet Angel. Will you be witnesses? My husband and my wife has agreed. We hereby grant Ignatios manumission. He is a freeman from this moment, and a member of our familias. He can wear a toga, and vote in all elections open to the Commons. Do you witness this manumission?'

'Fiat!' said Marcus and Sweet Angel.

Starsky looked at his servants. They all looked happy, and hopeful. This was a good sign that their own servitude might be rewarded. Every servant was smiling, except for one.

Hutch gave Ignatios her present, his first toga. Starsky handed him his first wages as a free servant of the household. Both Prince Marcus and Sweet Angel presented him with gifts of money.

Ignatios wept, shaking everyone's hand, and promising to serve the Starsky household just as well, if not better, than he had before.

It was several hours later, after dinner, after seeing Marcus and Sweet Angel out the gate, after telling Hutch to go and get some rest before she collapsed, that Starsky had the chance to catch up on a little household business.

'Master?' said the voice from the doorway. 'Ignatios said you wanted to see me?'

'Yes. Come in, Mariko. Close the door, please.'

'Yes, Master.'

Mariko came into his study, her head bowed. She gazed up at him, under her lashes, and Starsky could read her thought on her face.

He slammed his hand down on his desk hard, and she jumped.

'I asked you in here because I want to talk to you, Mariko. Not fuck you.'

Her head came up at that, and she actually glared at him. Starsky smiled.

'That's better,' he said. 'If there's anything I can't stand, it's servants creeping about, looking abused. Have I abused you, Mariko? Has anyone in this household abused you?'

'No, Master.'

'No. And no one will, or I will punish that person myself. As for me, I would never be unfaithful to Kenneth Hutchinson. Not with anyone, anywhere. But before I would fuck one of my own servants, with Hutch a few doors down the hall, I would cut off my own cock. Do I make myself clear?'

'Yes, Master.'

Mariko didn't look as if things were clear. She looked bewildered. Probably no former master had ever explained anything to her, except what position to assume next.

Mariko came from some mysterious island, far to the east. A place called Nippon. She was exquisitely beautiful, and exotic, with long, black hair, and tilted eyes. No doubt, most of her masters had taken advantage of that beauty. Starsky couldn't deny that he felt her erotic pull. But he was fully capable of resisting it.

'Are you unhappy here, Mariko? Would you prefer another master? Perhaps one who appreciates your beauty more?'

'No, Master. One master is the same as another.'

'That isn't true. I don't expect anyone to be happy about being a slave. How could you be? But you can be happier than you are. Tell me what it is that makes you unhappy, and I'll change it. Do you want a lover? A man? Or a woman? Do you want to do different work? Perhaps you would like to go to school? Improve your skills. But don't go about looking as if you were dead. Not in this house.'

'Forgive me, Master.'

'I'll forgive you, Mariko. But first you must tell me how to make your life better. Perhaps you don't believe me, that this household is my family. Mine, and my husband's. You aren't just property, like the furniture. None of you. So tell me what would make you happier, and I'll see that you have it. Short of setting you free, of course. That will happen eventually, but not now.'

'You can't give me what I want, Master. No one would do that. What I want, is permission to die.'

******************

The world was a strange place, thought Starsky. He wondered if the Gods understood it any better.

On the other side of the villa, in a quiet bedroom, his heart and soul lay sleeping. Or trying to sleep. Inside her, there was a tiny new life. A trembling, vulnerable life. Starsky would give his own life to protect it.

Then, there was Mariko. Young. Beautiful. Intelligent. A slave. But that didn't mean she couldn't live her life to the fullest, if she only tried. All she wanted was to die. Why? What happiness was there in death? Unless your life was so full of pain and grief that you couldn't bear one more moment of it. Like his life would have been, if he hadn't found Hutch.

Speaking of finding Hutch.

Starsky opened the door to his own little dungeon. He'd had it built when it looked as if he were going to need one in the future. People kept invading his home. Threatening his family. It was up to him to protect them.

Starsky stared at the dungeon's first official resident.

'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I've been neglecting you.'

The boy looked up at him, dully.

'I've got good news for you,' said Starsky. 'I found my husband. Alive.'

The boy looked shocked. Good. That meant this outcome was not part of any plot. It was not foreseen.

'So. I won't be taking years to kill you. In fact, I've decided to be merciful.'

The boy's eyes widened.

'Yes,' said Starsky. 'Merciful. Are you acquainted with the concept? Probably not, considering the company you keep. But I am. Merciful. When I feel like it. Did you know that your family has been complaining about me? In the streets of Rome? As if I were a common criminal for arresting you?'

The boy looked interested in this development.

'So, guess what? I'm going to give you a trial. In the Senate. And when they find you guilty, that's when I'm going to kill you. Are you happy?'

The boy didn't look very happy, but if wasn't up to Starsky to fix that. John Smith wasn't part of his familias.

**************************

Holy Eros.

When Psyche found you, you lived happily ever after, in Heaven.

Grant me time enough in my own Heaven.

*** The End ***


End file.
